


The Label

by ThePause



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2015-01-17
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:58:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 22,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2034603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePause/pseuds/ThePause
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt Hummel is a marketing executive at a record label in Nashville. A chance encounter with a handsome stranger at a karaoke bar unravels when Kurt learns the stranger is also the label's newest signing, Blaine Anderson.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

Ms. Kelli’s was packed for a Wednesday night. Two different girls in platform wedges spilled their drinks on Kurt’s favorite imogene + willie jeans as he made his way from the door to the bar. Kurt had a love/hate relationship with Ms. Kelli’s. The clientele was mostly half-naked college students and middle-aged women in bedazzled jeans. The dark paneled walls were covered in mysterious stains and the sticky, uneven floor had probably never seen a mop. But, Ms. Kelli’s was off the beaten path of Broadway and therefore (mostly) tourist-free, which made it the best karaoke bar in Nashville. 

Kurt made it to the back and caught the attention of Cherry, his favorite bartender. She winked and held up two fingers. Kurt nodded and felt a tug on his elbow, turning to see Libby rolling her eyes.

“Are the Vandy kids back in town already? I can’t even get to the bar to get a drink.”

“Taken care of, Your Highness,” Kurt said, reaching through two frat boys in backwards baseball caps to retrieve his drinks. “Thanks Cherry!” He raised the glasses in salut.

“Here you go, my dear. One dry martini for you and one Sidecar for me.”

“You’re a doll,” Libby said, pulling Kurt through the crowd and over to a high-top table near the back. “Shannon and Brit should be here any minute. I’ve already put our name in. Bruce said he’d move us up to the top of the list.”

At that moment Shannon and Brit arrived, already tipsy and ready to dance. “It’s crowded tonight! The Vandy kids must be back from summer in the Hamptons,” Shannon shouted over the noise of the crowded bar, reaching over to kiss Kurt’s cheek and then Libby’s.

“Fine with me! Those rich snobs always love us,” Brit laughed.

“Of course they do,” Kurt smirked, “look at us.” The girls assessed each others’ outfits while Kurt raised his glass to his lips and assessed the room. There were some regulars and some new faces. He waved to Martha at a table near the front. Martha came to Ms. Kelli’s every night to sing “I Will Always Love You” and drink wine. She never came with anyone and never sang any other songs. She and Kurt had never spoken, but always exchanged waves.

That’s what Kurt loved about Nashville. It didn’t have the uptightness of New York or the see-and-be-seen vibe of L.A. In Nashville, you could be the crazy woman at the karaoke bar who sings the same song every night and no one cared. Even the record business was different here. In Nashville, everyone rooted for each other, cheered for each other’s successes and cursed the losses together over a pitcher of margaritas and bad reality TV. Kurt loved Nashville.

“We’re next,” Libby said, looking at the marquee on the DJ stand.

Kurt drained his glass and followed the girls to the front, bumping into a guy leaning against the wall, drinking a beer.

“Sorry,” Kurt said, turning to apologize. 

Kurt paused for a half-second, his breath catching in his throat. This guy didn’t look like any of the other guys at Ms. Kelli’s. The man raised his beer to his mouth and swallowed, watching Kurt. Libby tugged on Kurt’s arm as the two men continued to look at each other, Kurt walking backwards through the crowd.

Kurt and the girls stepped up on stage as the opening notes of “Single Ladies” came over the loud speakers. Bruce’s DJ mic boomed out over the crowd, “It’s time for Kurt and his Single Ladies!” The entire bar erupted. Girls in short skirts squealed and pushed their way to the front to scream the lyrics at each other. Kurt looked for the man he had bumped into but couldn’t find him through the blinding spotlights. It had been a while since Kurt had met anyone that turned his head. Maybe he’d only imagined the stunning man in the tight, white t-shirt. Maybe Brit was right and he needed to get laid, and soon.

Instead of worrying about handsome hallucinations, Kurt poured his energy into the song. He’d done this routine a hundred times, but tonight he turned it up a notch. He danced a little sexier and shook his hips a little faster and snarled his lips a little sassier. To the audience of drunk co-eds it was provocative and fun.

To the dark-haired man leaning against the wall near the back of the room, who was very real and very fixated on Kurt’s every move, it was pure sex.

Once the song ended, Kurt and the girls slowly made their way back to their table, getting high fives and pats on the back, a few girls grabbing Kurt’s hips and giggling. “That never gets old,” Shannon laughed, squeezing Kurt’s hand. 

“I hope it never does,” he replied, walking over to the bar for another round of drinks.

He felt a hand on his back and turned around and to see the man from before, only this time he wasn’t obscured in darkness. Kurt could see his dark, curly hair and ridiculously long eyelashes framing his honey golden eyes. His pink, pouty lips were wet with beer. He was stunning.

“Hi,” the man said, a mischievous smile crossing his closed lips.

A line of girls making their way to bar pushed Kurt into the man. “Sorry,” Kurt said, trying to give him space, “hi.”

The man leaned in and spoke into Kurt’s ear. “Your performance was incredible,” he said, his breath hot against Kurt’s cheek. He leaned back and looked Kurt in the eye, quirking an eyebrow. It was a challenge. He leaned back in, his hand on Kurt’s arm, “You wanna get outta here?”

From anyone else it would be such a line, but Kurt felt himself nodding yes.

The man kept his hand on Kurt’s arm as they made their way through the crowd to the front door.

Once outside Kurt took a deep breath and shook his head, “Wow, I didn’t realize how hot it was in there.” He turned to the man and offered his hand. “I’m Kurt.”

The man took his hand and pulled him into a dark alcove next to the bar. “Hi, Kurt,” he said, pressing his lips against Kurt’s lips. Kurt couldn’t think, could only react. He wasn’t the type to kiss strange men in dark alcoves at karaoke bars but this man was gorgeous, other-worldly. He was shorter than Kurt, his face angled up to meet Kurt’s in kiss after kiss. Kurt reached out to grab his chin the man’s stubble scratching at Kurt’s cheeks and lips. His hands were on Kurt’s hips, running up his back, grabbing his hair. His tongue was in Kurt’s mouth, strong and insistent, his lips everywhere. 

Kurt was overwhelmed, all of his senses working at once. Kurt had been with other men, sure, but he’d never been kissed like this. These kisses, these touches, were fueled by raw need. It was sex without the sex. Kurt forgot he was in a public alley and completely gave himself over to it, riding the sensation as far as this man would allow.

“What’s your name,” Kurt asked, hands gripping the man’s waist so he wouldn’t melt directly into the sidewalk.

“That song,” he growled into Kurt’s neck, “the way you move.”

“Tha…thank y….mmmm…..” Kurt couldn’t speak in full words, let alone sentences.

The man reached down and grabbed Kurt’s ass, hard, pulling their hips together. Kurt could feel the other man’s hard cock pressing into him. He reached down between them and ran his palm over it, causing both of them to gasp.

“What else can you do with these magic fucking hips,” the man said, sucking Kurt’s earlobe into his mouth, making Kurt groan.

“I could show you,” Kurt breathed out, pushing the other man against the bricks and pressing their bodies together. “I live really close by. You could come home with me and…I could show you.”

The other man stilled, pulling his head back to look at Kurt, his eyes searching. Kurt thought he looked surprised, which didn’t make sense. Seconds before he’d practically been undressing Kurt in the alley.

“Kurt?” It was Libby, standing in the alley calling his name.

Kurt moved out of the shadow and called to her. “I’m over here.”

“What are you doing out here? You disappeared after our song and the girls want to sing again. You in?”

“I…” Kurt turned back to look for the man, but he was gone. Kurt walked up and down the alley but there was no sign of him.

“There was a guy out here with me.”

“A guy? I didn’t see anyone. Who was it?”

Kurt looked around once more, but the dark-haired man was gone. “No one. It was no one.”

“Kurt, you okay?”

“Yeah, of course, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Kurt stood in the alley, his hands on his lips. He could still feel the other’s man lips, could still taste his tongue. Had he said the wrong thing? He’d never actually asked someone to come home with him, actually advised his friends to never do something so impulsive, but this man…he had undone Kurt’s tightly held sensibilities in a few short moments. He had kissed Kurt like a wild animal, like he would devour him completely. And Kurt was ready to be devoured.

But where had he gone?


	2. Chapter Two

The conference room was nearly full when Kurt arrived. Grant Brown, head of A&R for Vine Records, was debuting a new artist he’d signed. Vine had a large conference room on the first floor of the building that had a small stage and doubled as a space for showcases. Every few months the entire label staff would be invited to see the latest signing.

“Kurtsie! Yoo-hoo!” Kurt heard her signature screech before he made it through the doorway. Beverly Sugar, known simply as Sugar to the Nashville music community, was manager to the stars and, for Kurt, a massive pain in the ass. And he hated it when she called him Kurtsie.

Kurt made his way across the room, plastering a smile on his face and readying himself for the visual and verbal assault that was Beverly Sugar.

“Hello, Sugar, you’re looking well,” Kurt said, ignoring the bright lipstick and too-large, false eyelashes. 

“Kurtsie,” she cooed, grabbing Kurt by the arm, “you will not believe this dreamboat I’ve signed. You will not BELIEVE it! His voice is like honey and he, oh! Here he is!”

Sugar pulled on Kurt’s arm, shooing away two assistants and suddenly he was face to face with him, the source of his every fantasy for the last three weeks. Unbelievably, fantastically, terrifyingly, the stunning man from Ms. Kelli’s was standing two feet away. This time he was wearing a worn, black v-neck and had leather ties and rubber bands and beaded bracelets covering both of his wrists. And maybe some eyeliner.

Kurt couldn’t help the gasp that shot out of him.

“I know, right? Isn’t he gorgeous! Doesn’t he just drip sex appeal? We’re going to make a fortune,” Sugar exclaimed, shaking them both by the shoulder. “Blaine Anderson, meet Kurt Hummel, Vice President of Marketing for Vine. Kurt, this is Blaine Anderson, my delicious new artist.”

The color had slowly drained from Blaine’s face, neither of them saying a word.

“Hey Kurt,” said Grant, putting an arm around Kurt’s shoulders, “Did you meet my new star?” 

“Grant, I’m afraid we’ve bewitched your head of marketing. I’ve never seen Kurt speechless,” she laughed. Kurt opened his mouth to speak but Sugar and Grant whisked Blaine away before he could say anything.

Kurt stood there, stunned. He had convinced himself he’d never see the mysterious man again, even though he’d gone back to Ms. Kelli’s a few times in hopes of running into him. He’d even spent an entire day telling himself their encounter had never happened in the first place, that it was all a dream. And now here he was, the sexiest man Kurt had ever seen in real life, in the label conference room.

“Hey everybody,” Grant said, tapping the microphone. The noise in the room faded as people found their seats. Kurt stood, immobile, by the back door. “While you’re finding your seats I wanted to tell you a little bit about our newest signing to Vine Records, Blaine Anderson.

I first saw Blaine at a tiny dive bar in Columbus, Ohio. I was actually there to see another artist, but it was Blaine who caught my attention with his soulful voice and captivating storytelling. But, I don’t want to say too much, I’d rather you see for yourself. Ladies and gentlemen, please give a great Vine Records welcome to Blaine Anderson.”

Polite claps scattered throughout the room as Blaine walked up to the mic and plugged in his acoustic guitar.

“Thanks, Grant. I’m Blaine Anderson and I’m really excited to be here.”

Kurt leaned against the back wall and closed his eyes, his mind reeling. Maybe he was wrong and this guy wasn’t The Guy. It had been dark in the bar, even darker in the alley. It couldn’t possibly be the same guy.

Kurt opened his eyes and gulped. There was no mistaking those eyes. Those lips. Those hands.

“Isn’t he stunning? Girls are going to lose their minds over him.” Sugar had come to the back of the room to stand next to Kurt.

“Guys, too,” Kurt said, watching the veins in Blaine’s forearms as he strummed his guitar. 

“Keep it in your pants, Kurtsie, he’s straight,” Sugar smirked, inspecting her pointy manicure.

“Straight,” Kurt said, as if saying it out loud would make it any more believable. “You sure he’s not a little…gray?”

“Nuh-uh, Honey, straight as an arrow. With a different girl, or a group of girls, every night. The man is walking sex. But that doesn’t mean we can’t market to your boys, too. I’m nothing if not an equal opportunist!” 

Kurt replayed the fateful night in his mind for the millionth time. 

Blaine had approached him. Blaine had made the first move. Blaine was all over him.

Straight my ass, Kurt said, under his breath.

—————

There was a meeting planned for after the showcase. Sugar was going to bring Blaine to Kurt’s office so Kurt could wow him with his vast marketing knowledge. It was standard procedure when a new artist was signed, but today Kurt was completely off his game.

He’d left the showcase early and was pacing his office floor. Professionally speaking, Blaine was everything he could hope for: incredible voice, incredible songs, incredible face. Personally speaking, Kurt wasn’t sure how he was going to forge a professional relationship with the man he’d groped in an alley.

“Knock, knock,” Sugar said, walking into Kurt’s office with Blaine trailing behind her. “Blaine, you remember Kurt?”

Blaine held out his hand, “Hi, Kurt. I’m Blaine.” His eyes were on Kurt, a subtle pleading in his expression.

Kurt paused a fraction too long before taking Blaine’s hand. “Wonderful to meet you. I really enjoyed the showcase.” Kurt could feel Blaine trembling. He was scared.

“Thanks,” Blaine said.

Sugar’s phone trilled and she fished around her giant bag, finally pulling it out and half-shouting, “You’re go for Sugar!” Kurt and Blaine looked at her, handshake forgotten but their hands still linked. She held up one finger and stepped out into the hall.

Kurt realized their hands were still joined and let go, clearing his throat and looking at Blaine.

“So. I’m finally able to put a name with the face.”

Blaine sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Sugar thinks you’re straight.”

Blaine’s head jerked up, a fire in his eyes. “I am.”

Kurt laughed, one single huff of disbelief and crossed his arms. “I hate to be the one to break this to you but, I am a man. And what you did to me in that alley was anything but straight.”

“That was…I’m…that was a mistake.” Blaine’s expression was hard, the sparkle vanished from his eyes.

“So you’re in-“

“You can’t tell anyone, Kurt.”

Kurt paused, a cold shiver running through him. “I’m not in the habit of outing people, that’s not my style. But that night, you came onto me. I don’t understand.”

“I’m not gay,” Blaine said, his voice shaking.

Sugar barged back into Kurt’s office. “That was Tony from publishing. He says Fox has a major pilot that wants to use “This Way” in all their ads leading up to launch. There’s also an option for it to be the theme song for the show.”

Blaine and Kurt were both silent, Blaine looking at the floor with his hands shoved down the front pockets of his dark skinny jeans.

“Did you hear me, Blaine? If this deal goes through it will line your pockets, and mine, so full you won’t be able to zip up those insanely tight pants you insist on wearing.”

“Yeah, no, it’s great,” Blaine said, eyes remaining on the floor. “Thanks, Sugar.”

“Don’t thank me, Love, it’s your brilliant song that got the placement.” Sugar looked at Blaine and then at Kurt. “Did I miss something here? What’s with you two?”

“Nothing’s with us. That’s really great news. It will definitely give us a great talking point to launch the single.” Kurt said, schooling his face and uncrossing his arms. He’d made a decision. He wasn’t going to let this go so easily.

“Listen, I’ve got some ideas for your record,” Kurt said, turning to Blaine, “and I’d love to go over them with you. I’d also love get to know you, the man behind the guitar, that sort of thing. Are you free for dinner? You could come to my place, I’ll cook, and we can discuss the launch.”

Blaine looked at Kurt, his eyes wide and skeptical. “I don’t…is that…I don’t know if I should.”

Sugar sighed and shoved Blaine’s shoulder. “Of course you should. He’d love to, Kurt. I’ve got something else tonight so you two will have to fend for yourselves. I’ll see to it that Blaine is delivered to your doorstep at…seven? You still in the Viridian?”

“Yes. I’ll see you at seven, Blaine,” Kurt said, sitting down at his desk and opening his laptop.

“Yeah, I guess you will,” Blaine said. Kurt looked up from his screen but Blaine was already gone.

—————-

“Libby, I think I’ve done something really stupid.”

“As if you, Captain Perfection, could ever do anything remotely stupid.”

Kurt and Libby were at Frothy Monkey on 12th. Kurt had called her for an emergency meeting, which he never did. Libby was usually the one in crisis and Kurt’s request to meet her for coffee made her nervous.

“What’s up? You seem…prickly.”

“Do you remember the guy I told you about? The one from Ms. Kelli’s?”

“You mean the guy no one else saw but you swear was real and had a giant cock and practically boned you in the alley?” Libby swirled her coffee cup and chugged what was left. “That guy?”

“First of all, I never said anything about the size of his…anatomy. Secondly, we didn’t bone, we made out.”

“…like wild animals, I believe you mentioned?”

“Okay, okay, I’ve talked about him a lot and how insanely hot he was, whatever. Imagine my surprise when he waltzed into the conference today as Vine’s newest fresh face.”

“SHUT THE HELL UP,” Libby shouted, slamming her coffee mug onto the table.

Kurt laid his head down and groaned.

“Kurt, you have to be shitting me, seriously. Your guy, THE guy, is a new artist at the label? Holy shit.”

Kurt didn’t say anything, just nodded his head against the polished wood of the cafe table.

“Oh. My. God. Holy shit. Holy shit. What are you going to do?”

Kurt lifted his head and rested his chin in his hands. “I haven’t told you the best part.”

Libby mimicked Kurt’s position, chin in hands, and waited.

“He thinks, or rather said, he’s….he said he’s straight.”

“Holy SHIT, KURT. WHAT THE HELL.” Libby smacked her hands on the table, eliciting a shush from a hipster in headphones two tables away.

“And he’s coming to my place tonight. So I can cook dinner for him and discuss my ideas for his record.”

Libby shook her head back and forth, smiling. “Oh you’re in deep shit this time, aren’t you. Shit.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Well what the hell else am I supposed to say, Kurt? You’ve been obsessing about this guy for weeks. I wasn’t even sure he was real and now you’re telling me he’s your new artist? And he’s coming over tonight? And he’s straight? Holy Shit.”

“Yeah. Holy shit.”


	3. Chapter Three

It was ten after seven when the doorman, Frank, buzzed Kurt that he had a guest on the way up. Kurt had time to check his hair again and smooth down his shirt before there was a knock at the door.

Kurt straightened his posture and took a deep breath, his Prada loafers silent on the dark cherry hardwood floor. Looking through the peephole, he couldn’t see Blaine’s face, just a blur of dark, curly hair.

Kurt turned the deadbolt and opened the door to find Blaine with one hand shoved into his front pants pocket and the other leaning against the doorframe, face down so that Kurt could only see the top of his head. “I see Sugar got you here safe and sound?”

“I was down at Merchants having drinks with some friends.” Blaine raised his head but didn’t look Kurt in the eye, his eyelashes grazing his cheeks. “I walked over.” 

Kurt swallowed the lump in his throat and repeated to himself what he’d been saying since he left the office: off-limits, off-limits, off-limits, off-limits.

“Either way, glad you made it. Come on in.” Kurt pulled the door wide, making room for Blaine to walk through. Blaine hesitated, standing up straight and shifting his weight back and forth, looking up and down the hallway. He was wearing skin-tight, dark jeans and a rumpled oxford with the sleeves messily pulled up to his elbows, collar hanging open. Standing in front of Kurt’s door, jangly nerves and stone-faced, he was the definition of effortless beauty. 

“You don’t need to be so nervous,” Kurt said, more to himself than to Blaine.

Blaine stayed put, mouth in a worried line, fingers drumming against his thigh. Kurt crossed his arms and took a step forward, leaning against the open door. “We got off on the wrong foot.” Kurt said, looking for the right words. “I mean, you have to admit we had an interesting introduction, didn’t we?” The right side of Blaine’s mouth ticked up in a barely there smile. “I was serious about wanting to get to know you. We’re going to be working together very closely and I’d like it if…if we could start over.”

Blaine leaned forward looking down at his shoes and shaking his head back and forth, a tiny movement Kurt wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t staring. And he shouldn’t be staring, shouldn’t be thinking about gripping Blaine’s dark curls and shoving him against the door to lick into his mouth. He shouldn’t be thinking about getting Blaine naked and touching and kissing every last dip and curve of his body. He definitely should not be thinking about that.

Blaine cleared his throat and looked up at Kurt, meeting his eyes for the first time since he’d arrived. Kurt’s knees weakened, the light catching the endless swirls of golden honey in Blaine’s eyes. “Do you really think we can do that,” Blaine asked, leaning in a fraction of an inch, “start over?”

“I think we can try.”

Blaine held Kurt’s gaze for a moment and before walking inside, his shoulder brushing Kurt’s as he walked past.

“Wow,” Blaine said, standing in front of the floor to ceiling living room windows that overlooked downtown Nashville, “your view is unreal.”

“It’s what sold me on the place,” Kurt said, standing next to Blaine while keeping his distance, “that and the rooftop pool.”

“Rooftop pool, huh? Sounds ripe for debauchery.” Blaine was smiling, his carefully constructed shield down, at least for the moment.

“I’m told it can be. I haven’t had a chance to partake in the debauchery firsthand.”

“Too busy making regular guys like me into super stars?” Blaine was full on smiling now, all teeth and crinkly eyes.

“So,” Kurt said, shaking off inappropriate thoughts and walking backwards into the kitchen, “I know I said I would cook for you but the day got away from me. I ordered up some asian fusion. I hope that’s okay?”

“I love a good fusion,” Blaine said, following Kurt into the galley kitchen, admiring the marble countertops and tall cherry cabinets.

Kurt gestured to three huge sacks on the counter. “I didn’t know what you liked so…”

Blaine couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of him. “Kurt, how much food did you think we were going to eat?”

Kurt began unloading the first sack onto a brown leather tray. “I didn’t know what you’d like so I ordered one of everything, including all of the vegetarian and vegan options.”

“That’s…thorough.”

“Something you will learn about me. I’m very thorough,” he said, winking at Blaine. It came out more flirty than he’d intended, but Blaine’s boyish grin never faltered. “I have some floor cushions in the living room, we could dine with a view?”

“Sounds perfect,” Blaine said, picking up a crab rangoon and biting it in half. “Mmmm, these are fucking amazing,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Kurt realized he was staring, hands in mid-air ready to grab the next dish. Kurt had a thing for hot guys eating food, like Brad Pitt in Oceans 11, always biting and licking fingers and lips and oh god. He had to focus. This was supposed to be professional dinner to discuss ideas for the record. Blaine was not the hottest make-out of his life, Blaine was his new artist. His job. His livelihood.

“There’s some beer in the fridge,” Kurt said, keeping his eyes on the food in the dishes, not the food making it’s way into Blaine’s perfect lips and enticing tongue. “Could you bring some into the living room?”

“I can do that.”

Kurt carried the tray full of food into the living room. He could hear Blaine humming something familiar as he set everything out on the long rectangle coffee table leaving barely enough room for plates and glasses.

Kurt kicked off his loafers and sat down on the floor cushion in front of his flat screen TV leaving the one in front of the couch open for Blaine. It felt like a date, Kurt realized. 

Blaine rounded the corner from the kitchen, two beer bottles in each hand and a bottle opener under his arm. “This looks great, Kurt, thank you.” Kurt smiled as Blaine placed the bottles on the table and unlaced his black boots.

“You’re welcome. Now you can watch the sunset the way it was meant to be seen, from a high rise.”

“How do you know I don’t live in a high rise,” Blaine asked, sinking down from the couch onto the floor.

“That’s true, I guess I don’t. Kung Pao Chicken?”

They ate in comfortable silence, making small talk about the food and passing various dishes to try. 

“So tell me,” Kurt asked, opening a second beer, “what’s the first thing I should know about rising star, Blaine Anderson?” 

It wasn’t what Kurt wanted to ask, not at all. He wanted to ask why Blaine had come on to him so strongly that night and why this felt like a date and why Blaine said he’s straight but seemed scared when he’d said it. 

Blaine put his fork down and drank what was left of his second beer. “Another?”

Kurt knew he shouldn’t. He knew. “Yes.”

Blaine jumped up and retrieved two more beers, bringing them back to the coffee table to open.

“The first thing you need to know about Blaine Anderson,” Blaine said, looking up at the ceiling and closing his eyes, “is that I prefer Jack Nicholson’s Joker over all the other jokers. And I like oatmeal raisin cookies better than all the other kinds of cookies. I was a vegetarian for exactly one year, on a dare. I’m allergic to grapes and,” Blaine lowered his chin, a measured look on his face, “I’m scared shitless about what you must think of me.”

Kurt twirled his beer bottle around and around in one hand, his eyes locked on Blaine’s. “Jack Nicholson is the greatest Joker, that’s true, but oatmeal raisin cookies are a travesty to the cookie name and should be outlawed. Meat is delicious, especially this Mongolian Beef and I’ve never heard of anyone being allergic to grapes so I don’t think that’s true.” Kurt leaned back, his hands on the floor behind him. “And about that last one, I’m…confused.”

“I’m sorry, Kurt. I’ve been such an asshole.”

Kurt didn’t say anything, wanting Blaine to keep talking. He didn’t.

Instead, Blaine stood up and offered Kurt his hand. Kurt wasn’t sure the intention, but Blaine’s his timid expression squeezed Kurt’s heart up into his throat. 

They walked out onto Kurt’s tiny balcony overlooking the Nashville skyline. Standing side by side, shoulders and hips and feet bumping and brushing together, Kurt decided to go first.

“This is incredibly embarrassing to admit, but that night at the karaoke bar…I was so overwhelmed by you.” Kurt turned to face Blaine, leaning against the iron railing. “You were a complete and utter stranger and I would have done absolutely anything you asked. Which, you should know, is not something I do. Ever.”

Blaine turned, too, facing Kurt, their hands touching, knuckles grazing, fingertips lingering. “Me, too.”

“You?”

“What happened that night, Kurt, that’s not something I do. Ever.”

“Because you’re…straight?”

“Because I have to be straight. Because…because every person in my life who’s ever had an opinion about my future, the future of my career, has let me know that I am straight. Because my ‘sex appeal with women’ is my greatest strength. Because the only way I will ever get to do what I love is to be a…to be…” Blaine leaned away from the railing and slid down the wall onto the small patch of concrete.

Kurt sat down next to him and reached out his hand. Blaine took it, his watery eyes breaking what little resolve Kurt had left.

“I’m sorry,” Blaine said, voice trembling. “I really fucked up, didn’t I.”

Kurt raised Blaine’s hand to his lips and kissing his fingertips, the hitch in Blaine’s breath sending a shiver down his spine. 

“Why did you leave, that night at Ms. Kelli’s? You didn’t know who I was,” Kurt whispered, holding Blaine’s hand in both of his own.

“When I saw you dancing on that stage, the way you moved, I’ve never been so drawn to someone. You were mesmerizing. Electric. I knew what a risk I was taking but I had to do it. I had to have you.”

Kurt’s could feel his face heating, a blush creeping up his cheeks. “But then you left.”

“I got spooked. You said you would take me home and your hand was…your hand was on my dick, Kurt. I freaked the fuck out.”

“I don’t understand. You could have just said no. Why did you run?”

“Kurt,” Blaine’s eyes were on his and Kurt could see it. Blaine was laying it all out, saying things he may have never said before, to anyone. “I’ve lived my entire life as a straight man.”

“Are you saying…do you mean that you’ve never been with a man?”

Blaine pulled his hand away and scrubbed it over his face, pulling his knees up to his chest. “I’ve…I’ve kissed a couple of guys, drunk at a party, that sort of thing. But, no, I’ve never…” 

“But you were so…I mean…I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be insensitive but I have been with men. Not a lot, but you know, some, and Blaine, I have never been kissed like that. By anyone. I have never been touched like that. I…I thought about you constantly after that night. When Sugar introduced you to me in the conference room I thought I was hallucinating.”

Kurt barely got the last words out before Blaine surged forward, their mouths meeting in a crash of lips and tongues. Blaine’s hands came up and grabbed Kurt’s face, his hair, pulling him forward. They kissed and kissed, barely coming up for air before being dragged down again. Blaine’s lips were soft and sweet and hard and insistent, all at once. Kurt could taste the salty tears on Blaine’s lips as he pulled Kurt into his lap. 

Kurt…Kurt…he murmured, pressing kisses into Kurt’s jaw, his throat. Blaine moved his lips to Kurt’s ear, kissing and whispering, “I could kiss you forever.”

“Yes,” Kurt said, winding his arms around Blaine’s neck and holding on, “yes.”


	4. Chapter 4

"You didn’t text me back, Kurt. I’ve been waiting, and waiting.” Libby was whisper shouting into Kurt’s ear as they walked towards the Vine Records building. Libby worked for the law office next door to Vine. “What happened with your mystery boy?”

“I can’t talk about this right now,” Kurt said, swiping his access card to open the front door. He had tried and failed to wipe the smile off his face his entire walk to work.

“Oh you will talk about it and you will talk about it right now. You can’t just obsess over some guy, only to find out he’s real and your new artist,” 

“Shhhhh,” Kurt hissed, holding the door open for two interns carrying trays of coffees.

Libby followed Kurt through the front door, “…and then invite him over and go radio silent the ENTIRE NIGHT AND NEXT MORNING you dirty dog. You boned him, didn’t you. You did.”

“Libby, you don’t work here. Shoo!”

Kurt stepped onto the elevator as Libby continued to protest. At the last possible moment, Kurt stuck his hand in between the closing doors. “And…” he whispered, looking around the lobby to make sure no one was listening, “he’s still in my bed.” 

The elevator doors closed on Libby’s exaggerated gasp.

Kurt smirked to himself knowing his comment would send Libby into a frenzy. His phone lit up with a new text message.

From Libbs: YOU LITTLE SHIT I KNEW IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Kurt smiled. It wasn’t exactly fair, leading her on, but it was definitely fun. While it was true that Blaine was in his bed, it wasn’t the scenario Libby was no doubt playing out in vivid detail in her mind.

Kurt closed his eyes and savored the memory from the night before. After he and Blaine had come inside from the balcony, they’d kissed on the couch all tangled limbs and roaming hands. Kurt had felt euphoric. Blaine was wrapped around him like a hand on a steaming mug of coffee, all tender and soft, kissing him like he was a precious gift. Like something to be savored.

Then Blaine had helped Kurt clean up dinner and they’d kissed in the kitchen. Blaine had leaned into him, had lifted him onto the countertop, running his hands up Kurt’s thighs and gripping his waist. He was smaller than Kurt, but stronger. Kurt had pushed his hands through Blaine’s hair and tugged, pulling him into a dirty kiss while they pulled and grabbed at each other. 

“You’re stunning,” Blaine had said, biting at Kurt’s ear. 

“Kurt?” His head whipped around, not realizing he wasn’t alone on the elevator. “Isn’t this your floor?” Reed from sales was holding the door open.

Kurt smiled. “Oh, right, I supposed it is.”

Kurt walked to his office, waving to his assistant and and closing his door. He sat down at his desk with his head in his hands. Closing his eyes, he replayed kissing Blaine by the front door. How he’d pushed Blaine up against the wall, gripping his hips and pressing into him. How he could feel the hard lines of his body under his hands. How their knees knocked together and their hips aligned. How utterly turned on they both were. How Blaine whined when Kurt lightly bit his jaw. How Kurt moaned when Blaine pulled his collar away from his neck and sucked a kiss into his shoulder.

And how Blaine had pushed Kurt, one hand in his hair and one on his ass, against the opposite wall. How he’d felt like Blaine was taking him apart piece by piece. How Blaine was licking a long stripe up Kurt’s jaw when Kurt had asked him to stay.

“Kurt, I…I don’t think I’m ready…”

“Not like that. I just…I don’t want you to leave. Just stay, no hanky panky.”

“Hanky panky? Kurt, I’ve never fucked a guy but I’m not some blushing virgin.”

“Fine,” Kurt had said, clasping his hands around Blaine’s neck and fluttering his eyelashes. “Mr. Anderson, I would be so pleased if you would stay the night with me. I promise not to compromise your gay virginity.”

Blaine had smiled a wide, brilliant smile, pulling Kurt’s hands down and into his own. “I guess I am pretty tired.”

“Me too. We could just…snuggle?”

Blaine had cupped Kurt’s cheek and smoothed his thumb across his eyebrow. Had leaned in and kissed him on the tip of his nose. “I’m not sure how I ended up here, with you, with,” he gestured in between the two of them, “this.” He had paused, considering. Kurt had watched him, hopeful. “I want to stay.”

Kurt’s office phone rang, shaking him from the memory.

“This is Kurt,” he said, blinking himself back to reality.

“Good morning, Kurtsie, Sugar here! Have you fallen in love with our Blaine yet?”

Kurt shivered, the feeling of Blaine’s lips still lingering on his skin. “I-”

“I can’t wait to hear all about it, but first, are you free tonight?”

“I’m-”

“Alabama Shakes have a show at the Ryman and the opening act can’t make it, something about their van breaking down or their lead singer went to rehab or something but who cares because I got Blaine on. He’s playing the Ryman. Tonight!” Sugar had a way of saying everything at once.

“Wow, that’s-”

“That’s why I’m the best! I’ll leave a pass for you at will call. He’ll go on at 7 so get there early. Byeeeeeee.” Sugar also had a way of hanging up before the conversation ended.

Kurt hung up the phone and leaned back in his chair letting out a long sigh. His new artist, the very same artist that was currently asleep in his bed, was playing the Ryman tonight.

Fuck.

 

—————

 

It was 6:20 when Kurt arrived at the Ryman. He’d gone home first and changed his clothes, taking care not to look like he had done so. But he knew his fitted, black pants, deep plum button down and snug, pinstriped vest looked good. His hair was swept up in practiced perfection as he walked down 5th Avenue and up the short staircase to the will call entrance.

“Kurt Hummel. I should be on the list for Blaine Anderson?”

All Access laminate secured, Kurt made his way backstage. He loved the Ryman Auditorium, the rich history, the acoustics, the architecture. No matter what artist was playing, going to a show at the Ryman was more than a show, it was an experience. 

He climbed the narrow staircase that wound up just off the lobby and found Blaine’s small dressing room on the third floor. Sugar was standing in the outside hallway on her phone and waved a hello to Kurt. 

The door was open and Kurt knocked as he went in. “Hello? Blaine?”

He rounded the corner to see Blaine sitting on a well-worn, leather sofa with a half-naked girl in his lap and one more on each side. Blaine’s hands were on the hips of the girl in his lap and her hands were around his neck. She had her head tossed back, laughing, intentionally squeezing her nearly exposed boobs together.

Kurt felt his cheeks heat up. He cleared his throat. “Blaine?”

Blaine looked up, his eyes rimmed in black eyeliner, his dark curls just the right amount of sexy messy. He looked incredible.

“Oh, hey man! Sugar said you might be coming.” His hands flexed tighter around the girl’s waist. “Ladies, this is Kurt. He’s head of marketing at my label.”

“Hi,” waved the girl in Blaine’s lap, bangles rattling around her wrist. The other two girls didn’t bother looking up from their phones.

Kurt wanted to say something, needed to say something, but he couldn’t. He could only stare.

Blaine moved the girl off of his lap and stood up, putting his hand out to shake Kurt’s hand. “I’m glad you could make it.” He smiled a wide, close-lipped smile, an artist smile, a smile reserved for label suits and members of the press. It wasn’t a Blaine smile.

Kurt’s eyes narrowed. He reached out and shook Blaine’s hand. “Yes, well, it’s my job to be here.”

Blaine’s face fell. “Yeah…right.”

“I just came back to wish you luck. Have a great show, Blaine,” Kurt said. 

He turned to leave but was stopped by one of the girls, now draped over Blaine like a security blanket. “It was nice to meet you, Kevin.”

“Kurt,” he said, nose in the air, shoulders back. He was not going to let Blaine see him crumble.

He looked at Blaine one more time, searching for any sign of recognition, any hint of regret. 

He didn’t find it.

 

—————

 

Kurt walked back up 5th Avenue to the Viridian. Most days he loved that he lived within walking distance of the Ryman. Tonight he was especially grateful.

He knew he should stay for the show, knew Sugar would ask, knew Grant would be looking for him, knew his staff would ask about it the next day, but he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t watch Blaine go on stage and pretend. Couldn’t listen to the girls’ screams. 

 

—————-

 

Kurt woke up at 1am to the sound of someone repeatedly hitting his door buzzer from the front lobby. Cursing and banging his knee on the foot of his bed, he stumbled to the intercom in his boxer briefs and pressed the button.

“This better be life or death.”

“Kurt?” It was Blaine.

Kurt ran a hand through this hair and leaned against the wall. He was not in the mood for this.

“What do you want, Blaine?”

“I wanna come up. Can I come up?”

“It’s really late. I don’t think its a good idea.”

“Kurt, please. I need to see you.”

Kurt squeezed his eyes shut so hard he saw stars behind his eyelids. He didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to be Blaine’s back-up plan or secret boyfriend or whatever game this turned out to be. Besides, he hardly knew Blaine. They’d spent more time making out than talking, their entire relationship, if you could call it that, was based solely on the white hot chemistry between them. And that wasn’t the way Kurt wanted to build a future with someone.

But Blaine was asking for a future. He was just asking to see him. For what, Kurt didn’t know but he knew that if he let him in, he would most definitely regret it.

Kurt buzzed him up. 

He had time to throw on yoga pants and a t-shirt before Blaine was knocking on the door.

Kurt pulled the door open just wide enough to situate himself between the door and the doorframe. The sight of Blaine made Kurt’s heart race. His hair was wild and his eyeliner was smudged. His hands were shoved into his pockets, wrists covered in rings of leather and plastic and fabric. His black v-neck was pulled to one side exposing his collar bone.

Kurt could feel his resolve weakening.

“Hi,” Blaine said, leaning in to kiss him. Kurt backed away.

“It’s 1am. And you’re drunk.”

“I know you left the show. It was total shit, anyway, so you didn’t miss much. And I’m not drunk. I’ve had some drinks, yes, but I’m not drunk.”

Kurt didn’t respond.

“Kurt. Please.” Blaine pulled his hands out of his pockets, palms up, like an offering.

“What do you want, Blaine?”

Blaine moved closer, into Kurt’s space, and put his hands on his chest. His eyes were wet, searching Kurt’s for any sign of acceptance. He ran his hands down Kurt’s chest, achingly slow, dragging it out while Kurt bit his lower lip and closed his eyes, trying desperately not to moan. Blaine stopped at Kurt’s waist, his thumbs rubbing in circles.

Blaine was so close, crowding Kurt into the doorway. Kurt could feel the heat from his body. Could smell the alcohol on his breath.

Kurt cleared his throat. “What do you want, Blaine.”

“You.” It came out in a whisper, Blaine’s voice cracking, his hands burning into Kurt’s skin.

“You’re drunk.”

“I’m not.”

“What about-”

Blaine cut him off with a searing kiss. His lips were hard and insistent. Kurt was immediately lost in it, in the taste and feel of it. In Blaine.

“No.” Kurt pushed him away and held him there, his knuckles pushing into Blaine’s sternum. “No.”

“Please let me in.” Blaine put his hands on Kurt’s shoulders, dragging them all the way down to his wrists. He pulled Kurt’s hands to his lips and kissed his fingertips. “Kurt, please.”

Kurt opened the door wider and let him in.


	5. Chapter 5

Kurt walked towards the kitchen without turning on any lights. Blaine closed the door and followed closely behind.

“Water?” Kurt was standing in the glow of the refrigerator light, hair mussed, a blush on his cheeks.

“Mmhmm.”

Kurt poured two glasses of water, handing one to Blaine and leaning against the counter. Blaine set his glass down and gripped the counter, one hand on either side of Kurt’s hips. It was dark in the kitchen, but they could see each other. Kurt could feel him, his body hyper aware of every shift in Blaine’s movements.

“You’re mad.” Blaine’s face was angled up, his eyelashes casting a small shadow on his brow.

Kurt raised his glass between them, watching Blaine over the rim and swallowing slowly. He held the glass at his chin and replied, “I’m not mad. I’m…

Blaine moved closer, pressing.

…I’m not sure what you’re doing here all sexy and in my kitchen in the middle of the night. Shouldn’t you be out with your girlfriend?” Kurt regretted the edge in his voice but made no effort to soften it.

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“You don’t? So that lovely young woman wiggling in your lap tonight, that was your sister?”

“Kurt-”

“It’s fine, Blaine, really. It’s not like we’re boyfriends.” Kurt gingerly placed his glass on the counter behind him and crossed his arms. “I mean, how could we be? You aren’t gay.”

Blaine’s lips twitched, his triangular eyebrows flattening out into straight lines.

“It’s late,” Kurt said, making a move to leave the kitchen. Blaine kept his hands on the counter, holding Kurt to his spot. 

“I’m not going to say I’m sorry for what you saw, Kurt, because I didn't do anything wrong. Even if I did, those girls meant nothing to me. There’s always girls around at shows, that’s the deal.”

“You seemed pretty cozy.”

“You of all people should understand. Being appealing to women is my persona as an artist. It’s my job. I’m supposed to be this sex symbol guy, supposed to always have girls around. Sugar, my manager, brought those girls to the show, I didn’t even know them.”

Kurt wanted to stay strong, wanted to say no. “And then you came here because…”

“I shouldn’t be here, I know. I know I can’t do this, shouldn’t do this. I’ve worked so hard to get where I am but…”

“But?”

“I need you, Kurt. And I know it’s too soon to say that. I know I don’t have my shit figured out and, fuck, maybe I never will. But I need you.”

Kurt pulled his arms tighter around himself. “I don’t want to be your dirty little secret Blaine. I don’t want you coming over here in the middle of the night to get whatever it is you want and then pretending to be something you’re not the rest of the time. I want to be with someone who wants to be with me. All the time. In all the places.”

“I can be that. Let me try.”

“How? On what terms?”

Blaine stood up straight and scrubbed his hands over his face. He looked at Kurt, his bloodshot eyes searching, shoulders slumped forward making him look small.

“You don’t want me,” Blaine said, his voice quiet. It wasn’t a question.

The dam inside Kurt, the one he’d carefully built to hold together his sensibilities and priorities and carefully placed rules, the dam that cracked the minute he’d opened the door for Blaine to come inside, that dam broke. 

He reached out and pulled Blaine to him, one arm around Blaine’s waist and one around his neck. They stood there, foreheads pressed together, their labored breath mingling together in a stuttered rhythm.

“Blaine.” Kurt’s voice came out in a whisper. His head was telling him to run, to end it now before it went too far, that this wasn’t what he wanted. “The problem isn’t that I don’t want you,” Kurt said, running a hand through Blaine’s thick curls. “The problem is that I want you so much I feel as if my bones will turn to liquid. I want you so much I’m willing to compromise everything I hold dear just to have the chance to touch you. I want you so much I…god, Blaine, I nearly had sex with you before I even knew your name.”

Blaine leaned back to look at Kurt, to see his expression. To watch his mouth as he said the words.

“I want you,” Kurt said, cupping Blaine’s face. “I want you.” He kissed the corners of Blaine’s mouth. “I want you.” He kissed his stubbled jaw. “I want you.” 

Kurt’s lips were on Blaine’s, but not in a kiss. He was speaking into him, over and over, telling Blaine what he needed to hear. Saying over and over what he’d known since the first time he laid eyes on him in a crowded bar. Convincing himself that nothing else mattered but this moment. 

“I want you. I want you. I want you.”

“Kurt…” Blaine’s lips were on his lips, on his cheeks, on his eyelids, on his neck. “Kurt.”

Kurt took Blaine’s hands and wrapped them around his waist, pulling them through the kitchen and down the hall to his bedroom. Once inside the room, Blaine was on him, touching and licking and kissing.

He pushed Kurt down onto the unmade bed and hovered over him, his knees and elbows framing Kurt’s body. They looked at each other in the darkness, both knowing exactly what they wanted and both terrified at the thought. 

Blaine sat up, his weight resting on Kurt’s thighs, and slowly peeled off his shirt. Kurt didn’t know where to look first, overwhelmed by the sight. Blaine was small but solid, defined, his shoulders narrowing down to his small waist. Kurt wanted to tell him he was gorgeous, beautiful, perfect but no words came.

Slowly, Kurt reached out to touch him, running his fingertips over Blaine’s collarbone, swirling down and over, his fingers splayed wide, his thumb circling Blaine’s nipple. It was a reverent touch, a gift. Blaine’s chest rose and fell with quick breaths, his eyes fluttering closed. Kurt traced down, down, down through the small trail of hair leading to the waistband of Blaine’s jeans.

They didn’t speak, communicating their desire through touches and looks, gasps and smiles. 

Kurt raised up and let Blaine pull off his t-shirt. Blaine’s hands on him were trembling and hot and tentative and strong, all at once. The rough callouses on his fingertips from years of playing guitar scratched over Kurt’s skin, making him shiver.

Kurt reached and took Blaine’s hand, placing a kiss to his palm and placing it over his heart. He then reached up and placed his other hand on Blaine’s heart. He wanted Blaine to know that this meant something to him. That he was in this, whatever this was, reason be damned.

Blaine seemed to understand, pausing to take it in, the pounding of his heart thudding against Kurt’s palm.

Kurt moved his hand down to Blaine’s jeans, keeping eye contact, measuring Blaine’s willingness. Blaine leaned back on his hands, pushing his pelvis forward, giving Kurt permission.

Kurt sat up and flipped Blaine over onto his back, smiling at the surprised look on Blaine’s face. He kissed him, communicating his request with his lips and his tongue. Blaine sighed into his mouth, relaxing under Kurt, ready.

Kurt kept his eyes on Blaine’s while he undressed him, shedding his last layers and dropping them to the floor. Blaine was whining and panting, his thighs tense, his erection fully hard. Kurt rubbed his hands over Blaine’s calves and knees and thighs, feeling every line and curve, all while keeping his eyes locked onto Blaine’s. He touched Blaine’s hard cock, running his fingers over the smooth skin and gripping him tightly in his fist, causing Blaine to close his eyes and break the spell. Kurt kissed him, bringing him back, saying everything and nothing.

Blaine pushed Kurt’s arm, motioning for him to lay down on the bed next to him. He pulled off Kurt’s yoga pants and boxer briefs, his lips parting as he took in the sight. Kurt had ever been so blatantly stared at, never been so laid bare. He could feel Blaine’s gaze on his body, seeping into his skin, leaving a mark.

Kurt reached for Blaine’s hand and put it on his hip, an invitation. Blaine paused, waiting, looking, breathing. Kurt’s hard cock was straining up towards Blaine’s hand, saying everything Kurt couldn’t. You can touch me. I want you to touch me. Please.

Blaine reached out and touched him, a soft touch, an exploration. Kurt moaned, turning his head into a pillow, using every once of strength he could muster to lie still, to let Blaine have this.

Blaine surged forward and kissed him. Their mouths met in a fevered gasp, a needed release from the tension of the moment. Blaine pulled Kurt into him, kissing him and holding him, their cocks brushing against each other causing them both to cry out.

Kurt rolled over onto Blaine, reaching into a drawer in his bedside table and bringing back a small bottle of lube. He rubbed some of the clear liquid onto his fingers and reached for Blaine’s cock, holding it together with his own. Blaine growled, a deep guttural moan, as Kurt stroked them together. 

Blaine clawed at Kurt’s shoulders, panting through his lips, his eyes closed. The vice around Kurt’s heart squeezed tighter. Blaine was so beautiful like this. He didn’t think he would ever be able to look away.

He took his hand away, moving over Blaine and letting his hips take over, pressing them closer together with every thrust. They moved together, pushing and thrusting against each other, the movement of their bodies and their quiet moans the only sound in the room.

Kurt could feel himself getting close and wanted to slow down, to savor the moment, to make it last forever. But Blaine held him there, his arms and legs wrapped around Kurt, clinging to him.

Blaine came first, his head thrown back, a cry spilling from his open mouth. Watching him was enough to tip Kurt over the edge, burying his face in Blaine’s neck, their sweaty bodies tangled together like twisting vines.

It took Kurt a few moments to come back to himself. He lifted his head to smile up at Blaine only to see Blaine beaming at him, almost glowing. They kissed long and lazy, neither one willing to let the other go.


	6. Chapter 6

“Kurt,” Blaine croaked, peeking out from under Kurt’s pillowy white comforter. Kurt was standing by the bed, fully dressed, holding a steaming cup of coffee, the pulled curtains casting the room in a hazy morning glow.

“There’s coffee,” Kurt said, his voice low, afraid to do anything to spoil this perfect, perfect moment. 

Blaine stretched his arms out from under the comforter and reached for Kurt. “C’mere.”

Setting his coffee down on the bedside table, Kurt sat down on the edge of the bed. Blaine reached over and wrapped his arms around Kurt, nuzzling his head into Kurt’s waist. Kurt reached down and kissed Blaine on the top of his head, running a hand through his messy curls.

“I have to go,” Kurt murmured, looking down into Blaine’s eyes.

Blaine hummed, kissing up Kurt’s chest. “Stay.”

“I can’t, I have an emergency meeting about my newest artist, Blaine Anderson. Apparently he wow’d the crowd at The Ryman last night so now we’re rushing the first single.”

Blaine continued to kiss up Kurt’s chest, burying his face in Kurt’s neck, his ass half-exposed as he reached for Kurt. “That show was total shit.” He rubbed his stubbled cheek in circles over Kurt’s neck. “Aren’t you the boss?” He kissed behind Kurt’s ear. “Stay,” he whispered, his hot breath sweeping across Kurt’s face, “stay here with me.”

“As enticing as your proposition is, and believe me it is, my phone has been blowing up with texts all morning. I think my assistant’s in love with you. Grant actually said he was moved. Moved, Blaine! Didn’t you hear my phone buzzing this morning?”

Blaine shook his head no, his hair brushing across Kurt’s cheek.

“The entire company is texting me about how amazing you are. I hate to think what might happen when you play a non-shitty show.”

“Hmmm. More importantly, how do you feel about naked hugs?” Blaine sat up all the way up and climbed into Kurt’s lap, wrapping his fury legs around Kurt’s waist and engulfing him in a hug. 

Kurt smiled. Blaine was all warm skin and soft touches. This man, he thought, is going to be my undoing. “I don’t think it counts as a naked hug when you’re the only one who’s naked,”

“So get naked with me,” Blaine said, kissing him slow and sweet. Kurt groaned into the kiss, warmth spreading through his veins. “Last night, Kurt…I….” Blaine paused and laid his head on Kurt’s shoulder, his arms and legs squeezing tighter.

“I know. Me, too. It was for me, too.”

They lingered, touching and kissing, holding each other in the thin rays of sunlight streaming through the cracks in the curtains.

“I’ll come back. You stay here, and as soon as my meeting is over, I’ll come right back.”

Kurt pulled Blaine’s face up to his and kissed him, laying him back down on the bed. 

“I’ll come back and I’ll kiss you here.” He kissed Blaine’s Adam’s apple. “And here.” He kissed his sternum. “And here.” He kissed his ribs. “And maybe even here,” he said, hovering over Blaine’s crotch where he was half-hard. They locked eyes, Kurt waiting for permission.

“Or you could…now…you could kiss me now.” Blaine was breathless, eyes wide.

Kurt leaned down and placed a kiss to Blaine’s cock. And another. And another. Then he leaned up to kiss Blaine hard on the lips. “I really have to go,” he sighed into Blaine’s mouth as Blaine kissed and kissed him. “Stay in this bed. Do not move. I want you naked and rumpled when I get back.”

“Hurry,” Blaine said, smiling and pushing him off of the bed.

 

———————-

 

Kurt smoothed down his shirt and ran his fingertips across his lips as he walked to Grant’s office. Even though he had checked three different windows on his walk over as well as the men’s room mirror, he felt like Blaine was visible all over him, like Grant would take one look at him and know. He’d purposefully avoided thinking about how wrong this whole situation was professionally. No one could know, especially Grant. He and Grant had been friendly rivals since Grant was hired at Vine three years ago.

Grant’s office was smaller than Kurt’s, which he knew irritated Grant. Kurt’s corner office had two full walls of windows while Grant’s only had one. It was an unspoken hierarchy at Vine; more windows, more power. Grant could never find out Kurt was fraternizing with his latest signing. Not only would he likely be fired, Grant would win. And Kurt never let anyone win. Ever.

Grant looked up from his computer as Kurt walked in. “Hey, Kurt. I cannot believe you missed Blaine’s show last night. He was…”

“Amazing,” Kurt said, his mind replaying the images of Blaine’s body under his hands, moving in the dark.

“Fucking amazing. Everyone’s talking about it. Shay over at Pinnacle texted me last night. You know she tried to sign him, right? She’s so pissed.”

“Lucky us,” Kurt replied, trying to stay in the moment, trying not to give himself away.

“Luck had nothing to do with it, Kurt, I worked my ass off to get Blaine to sign with us. Had to give him a massive signing bonus for him to even entertain the idea.”

“How massive?” Blaine hadn’t mention a signing bonus.

“Massive enough that I thought Trevor was going to fire me when I told him about it. But the contract’s signed, he’s ours. Now we just need to have a perfect launch, which is why I called this meeting. Liam should be here any minute and I’ve asked Sugar to come, too. If we’re going to fast track this single we’ll need her input.”

One second later, Liam and Sugar both walked into Grant’s office. Liam was the head of Vine’s creative team and art director for photo shoots. Kurt loved working with Liam. He had a great eye and always knew how to capture the artists’ personality.

Sugar rushed over to Kurt to as soon as she saw him. “Kurtsie, where’d you run off to last night? Everyone was looking for you,” she cooed, kissing his cheek and leaving a lipstick stain.

“Oh, ummm, migraine,” he said, wiping his cheek.

“Listen guys,” Sugar said, sitting on the arm of Grant’s leather sofa, “I called Baird LeConte last night. He’s in to shoot Blaine.”

Liam gasped. “You called Baird LeConte? THE Baird LeConte?”

“Sure did, Honey. Baird and I go way back, worked together on a shoot in the Bahamas a few years ago. He owes me.”

“Sugar,” Grant said, rubbing his temples, “we need to decide on a budget before deciding on a photographer, and a concept, you know that.”

“Yeah, but…Baird LeConte,” Liam said to Grant, mouth hanging open. “He’s a legend! I’ve wanted to work with him my entire career but he doesn’t do musicians.”

“He’s a legend alright,” Kurt huffed, “a legendary dick. Sugar, what were you thinking?”

“I was thinking,” she sneered, “that we need a photographer that can capture Blaine’s raw sex appeal. I don’t trust some ill-experienced Nashville dishrag to do that. It’s got to be Baird. I explained that we need something tout suite so he’s coming in tonight on his private jet. We’ll shoot tomorrow.”

Grant whined and put his head down on his desk. 

“Holy shit, Sugar!” Kurt was pacing the office and waving his arms around. “Have you completely lost your mind? We cannot shoot Blaine tomorrow! We don’t have wardrobe or a stylist…or a location! Or a concept! Are you insane? Besides, I highly doubt we have the budget for a private jet.”

Liam eyes were glazed over and he kept repeating Baird LeConte under his breath.

“Liam,” Kurt screeched, snapping his fingers in Liam’s face, “focus! We cannot shoot Blaine tomorrow. Tell her we cannot shoot Blaine tomorrow.”

“Kurt, it’s Baird LeConte.”

“Yes, epic pervert, Baird LeConte, famous for exploiting women and underage girls in his overtly sexual photos.”

“Don’t be so dramatic. Baird will be able to get the right photo for Blaine. You know it and I know it.” Sugar’s arms were crossed, her long, spiked nails tapping against the sleeves of her hot pink, silk blouse.

“Grant, help me out, tell her we cannot do this.”

“It’s happening,” Sugar interrupted, standing up to leave. “Get on board, boys, cause this train isn’t stopping until we hit platinum status. I will work out the details with Baird and text them to you guys,” she shouted, already half-way out the door. “It’s going to be fucking incredible!”

“Baird LeConte, oh my god” Liam said, shaking his head back and forth.

“She can’t do that! Can she do that?” Kurt slumped down onto the couch with his head in his hands. 

“She just did,” Grant mumbled, head still on his desk.

 

——————

 

Sugar’s bomb of an announcement meant hours of work for Kurt but there was no way in hell he would be able to concentrate knowing Blaine was waiting for him. The photo shoot had Kurt’s mind spinning. Last night had scrambled his brain and only now was he seeing things clearly. Pursuing something with Blaine was not only ill-advised, it simply couldn’t happen. Yes, he was already in too deep to get out unscathed, but better to cut it off now than to make things worse. On the walk back to his apartment he made a mental list:

1\. He’s my artist  
2\. I could be fired  
3\. He’s not out, not sure about who he is or what he wants  
4\. He’s my artist  
5\. He’s my artist  
6\. He’s my artist

That settled it. Blaine was his artist, Kurt was Blaine’s label rep. They would keep it professional. He rehearsed his speech as he rode the elevator up to his floor. He had to be strong, had to be responsible.

Kurt turned the key in the lock and pushed his front door open. “Blaine?”

He set his bag and keys down on the small entrance table and rounded the corner to see Blaine, naked, leaning against the kitchen counter eating an apple, like a fucking porno. 

“Oh, fuck,” he said. Out loud.

“Hi,” Blaine said, waving the apple in the air.

That morning he had asked Blaine to stay naked and rumpled in his bed. This was so…much…better.

Last night had been about connecting and making Blaine feel safe and wanted. Last night had been dark and emotional. Last night they had led each other with touch and emotion. But now…now the lights were on and Kurt could see everything. He licked his lips while he raked his eyes over every inch of Blaine’s body, forgetting all about his responsibility speech. Blaine’s back was against the counter, one leg bent at the knee with his foot on the cabinet, one arm crossed over his chest and the other arm raised to his mouth where he was biting into the apple.

I’m already doomed, Kurt thought, might as well go all the way to hell.

 

“See something you like,” Blaine asked, mouth full, a dare twinkling in his eyes.

“Maybe,” Kurt teased, kicking off his shoes, moving towards Blaine and grabbing his hips. He kissed Blaine, long and dirty. “I believe this morning I promised you a kiss.”

Blaine swallowed thickly and tossed the apple into the sink. “Yes, I…I believe you did.”

“Well,” Kurt said, sinking down to his knees, “take note, I always keep my promises.”

Blaine whined and gripped the counter, his knees trembling. Kurt scratched his nails up and down Blaine’s thighs, his lips ghosting over Blaine’s filling erection. “I don’t know how to say this without sounding ridiculous, but, your penis is fucking gorgeous,” Kurt said, wrapping his hand around him and stroking him to full hardness.

Blaine turned his face to the ceiling, cursing and moaning Kurt’s name. “Kuuuurt.”

Kurt placed small kisses up the side of Blaine’s cock as he stroked, his other hand reaching around to grab Blaine’s ass. He looked up as he took Blaine into his mouth, their eyes meeting, Blaine choking on his own gasp.

Kurt kept his eyes on Blaine as he licked and sucked and swallowed. Blaine watched him as long as he could, finally closing his eyes and giving in to the sensation, Kurt’s name on his lips.

Even though he’d given his fair share of blow jobs in the past, it had never been like this. Kurt loved all of it, the weight of Blaine’s cock on his tongue, the taste and smell of him, the sounds he made. Kurt had never felt so sexy, so in charge of the moment. His own cock was pressing tightly against the zipper of his perfectly pressed navy pants. Taking Blaine’s cock fully into his mouth and throat, and eliciting a loud shout from Blaine, he moved one hand down, unzipped his pants and pulled his dick out. 

He was lightheaded. Between the intense rush of blood to his own dick and the way Blaine’s hands were gripping his hair, their eyes meeting whenever Blaine opened them, Kurt didn’t know how much longer he could hold on. He was having an out-of-body moment, watching the intensely erotic scene as a spectator, coming undone from the mere idea of what was happening.

And oh, it was happening.

Kurt sucked hard and with purpose while simultaneously jerking himself off. Blaine bent over Kurt, one long moan on his lips. 

“Kurt…nnnnhhhhh…..I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come.”

Blaine pulled on Kurt’s hair but Kurt kept sucking, his head bobbing in perfect rhythm with his own hand stroking himself.

Blaine cried out, trembling, knees giving out as he came down Kurt’s throat. He slid down the counter to the floor, grabbing Kurt’s face and kissing him with fire and heat and sweetness, too. Their mouths were on each other’s when Kurt came, gasping and clutching Blaine’s arm, Blaine’s hand over his to stroke him through the last of it.

“I’ve got you,” Blaine said, wrapping him up in his strong arms. “I’ve got you.”

“I know,” Kurt said, feeling in his bones how true those words were, “I know.”


	7. Chapter Seven

Kurt rounded the corner to Libby’s cubicle and plopped down on her desk.

“Holy hell, Kurt,” she yelped, “you scared the shit out of me.” Libby narrowed her eyes and scrunched her eyebrows together. “To what do I owe the pleasure Mr. I-Just-Got-Laid?”

“What makes you think I got laid?”

“Oh please, look at you. You banged your hot little artist didn’t you?” Kurt glared at her, his mouth in a straight line. “Your shirttail is untucked and there are more than five hairs out of place and you’re visiting my sad, windowless cubicle in the middle of the day. Something happened.”

Kurt sighed. “He showed up at my apartment last night.”

Libby crossed her arms and leaned back in her desk chair. “Continue.”

“He showed up all rumpled and gorgeous and vulnerable. What was I supposed to do?”

“Bone him, duh. But I thought you said he was embroiled in some sort of bosom soup-du-jour at the Ryman show?”

“He said Sugar brought those girls, that he wasn’t interested in them. That is was part of his persona,” Kurt said, curving his fingers into air quotes.

“And you believed him.”

“I did. I do.”

“So you boned him,” she said, smiling as Kurt shrugged his shoulders in defeat. “Was it hot? Does he have a big dick? Tell me everything.”

“It wasn’t like that, Libby. It was…he was…we…” Kurt moved off of the desk and slid down onto the floor. 

“Uh-oh.”

“Yeah, uh-oh. He’s…amazing. He’s sweet and funny and so unbelievably sexy I think I might actually burst into flames.” Kurt looked at Libby with sad eyes. “He stayed over. This morning I had a meeting and afterwards I hurried back to my apartment and found him naked. In my kitchen. Eating an apple.”

“Oh my god.”

Kurt drew his knees up to his chest and laid his head down. “I don’t want to fall for him, I don’t. He’s my artist and he’s figuring things out and his manager is doing everything she can to turn him into a walking billboard for straight sex. It’s too much. He’s too much.”

Libby climbed out of her chair and sat next to Kurt on the floor, pulling him into a hug. 

“You’re right, it’s a mess. You should totally run away as fast as you can from the white hot sex magnet with the magic penis. But, Honey, I’d say by the looks of you,” she said, rubbing circles over his back with her rounded fingernails, “it’s too late for that.”

 

———————-

 

Kurt was up late working. His boss had called to inform him that the Program Director for Lightning 100 was at the Ryman show and wanted to add Blaine’s single as soon as it was ready. Kurt was ordered to work up a marketing plan and single launch plan…immediately. He had just emailed the plans to the team when his phone buzzed with a text.

12:43am - From Blaine  
U awake?

12:43am - From Kurt  
Oh god, please tell me you’re not one of those text speak people. I cannot abide text speak.

12:43am - From Blaine  
What RU wearing?

12:44am - From Kurt  
I’m wearing a look of disgust at you using text speak.

12:45am - From Blaine  
Hot

Kurt was formulating a flirty response when his phone rang.

“Hey, am I calling too late?” Blaine’s voice was low and husky in that almost-asleep way that Kurt loved.

Kurt cleared his throat and stretched his legs under the comforter. “No, I’ve been finishing up some work. Was just getting into bed.”

“Mmm.” Kurt could hear Blaine thinking through the phone.

“Shouldn’t you be getting beauty rest for your big photo shoot tomorrow?”

“I was but…I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to talk to you.” He sounded worried.

Kurt turned onto his side and held his phone between the pillow and his ear. “I’m listening.”

“When I came to your apartment last night, I was pretty sure you weren’t going to let me in. I just, I knew I had to try. And then you did and….Kurt….last night was…”

Kurt smiled, waiting to hear what else Blaine needed to say.

“I know this is all…I know it won’t be easy. I know I’ve got shit to work out, but…”

“But?”

“I really like you, Kurt.” Blaine’s voice cracked on Kurt’s name, splitting Kurt’s heart wide open, warmth spreading out to the roots of his hair and the tips of his toes.

“I like you, too.” So much, Kurt thought, so so much.

“I want you to know that I heard everything you said. I know you don’t want something casual or hidden. I know I’m your artist and that complicates things. I know this is all fairly fucked up. But I…I want to try, Kurt. I want to be with you.”

“Blaine…”

“I just…I wanted you to know, before everything starts tomorrow. I can’t promise that I won’t screw something up or that I won’t let you down. But I want this, you. I want you.”

“Me, too.”

They were silent for a moment, each listening to the other breathe, mouths curling into nervous smiles.

“So,” Blaine said, his voice thick with sleep and possibility, “where does that leave us? How do we…what should we do?”

Kurt closed his eyes and imagined his boss finding out. Sugar. Grant. As much as Kurt wanted to fall into a fairytale, he knew it wasn’t that easy. Nothing about this would be easy.

“Blaine, what about your career? Your persona?”

“I don’t want to start my career living a lie. I want to be honest about who I am.”

“As brave as that is, and it is, I don’t think you can avoid being labeled, especially in your genre. People need to know what box to put you in so they can make themselves feel better. Believe it or not, there are certain people in this business who don’t want to work with me because they know I’m gay.”

Blaine sighed. “I know you’re right, I know it’s insane to think I could come out and not face a total shit storm. But it’s what I want to do. Need to do.”

“You’re sure? That’s a big step and-”

“I’m sure.”

Kurt laughed to himself, not believing what was happening. “What,” Blaine asked, a smile in his voice.

“Nothing, I just…I’m happy. You make me happy.”

Blaine let out a long breath and hummed. “You are…”

Kurt smiled, “Devastatingly handsome? Surprisingly wise? A total catch?”

“My favorite. You, Kurt Hummel, are my favorite thing.”

 

——————

 

A loud clap of thunder woke Kurt up from a dead sleep. He reached for his phone but the battery was dead. He had fallen asleep talking to Blaine and never plugged it in. Stumbling out of bed he flipped on the light switch but the light didn’t turn on. “The hell?”

Walking through the apartment he realized the power was out. He grabbed his watch from the coffee table and saw that he was an hour late for the photo shoot. 

“SHIT! Shit shit shit shit shit shit,” he shouted, running through his apartment and getting dressed as fast as he could. 

The photo shoot was at Craft Studio on 2nd Avenue, walking distance from Kurt’s apartment, but today he was driving due to the sudden, late summer thunderstorm. Kurt owned a silver BMW Z4 Coupe, the most beautiful car he’d ever seen. He bought it when he was promoted to VP at Vine and had barely driven it, obsessed with keeping it pristine. 

The rain let up just as Kurt pulled into the Craft Studio parking lot. He unplugged his phone from the car charger and stepped out onto the gravel, avoiding several large puddles. He made it to the front door and saw Liam, Grant and Sugar all huddled under a large golf umbrella.

“Sorry I’m late, the power went out at my place. Is there power here?” No one said a word, all of them avoiding looking at Kurt. “What are you guys doing? Why aren’t you inside.”

“That man is completely out of control,” Liam blurted, pulling a cigarette out of his shirt pocket. “He won’t listen to anyone. He won’t take any direction. He’s just…shit, Kurt, I don’t know how we’re going to fix this.”

“Calm down,” Kurt said, “it’s just a photo shoot. We can handle it. Why are you guys out here? And since when do you smoke?”

“I don’t know man. I do not know,” Liam said, lighting his cigarette and stalking through the parking lot.

Kurt quirked his eyebrow at the other two. “What is going on?”

“Baird has a process,” Sugar said, hands on her hips.

“Bullshit,” Grant barked, “he’s completely insane! This entire thing was a mistake and we are totally fucked. He’s got some sort of bondage situation going on in there, I don’t even know. It’s a complete nightmare.”

“Bondage?” Kurt’s eyebrows shot up, incredulous. “Look, I don’t care who he is, I’m going in. I suggest you both get your heads out of your asses and come with me.”

Kurt pulled open the heavy white door and stopped before making it over the threshold, Grant and Sugar on his heels. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“WHAT? THE HELL? IS GOING ON IN HERE?”

Baird LeConte, a tiny, greasy little man, had his back to Kurt and was shooting Blaine against the studio’s white infinity wall. Blaine was shirtless, wearing black leather pants that laced at the crotch and left little to the imagination. He was surrounded by four topless, female models in g-strings, all of them touching and groping him. The models were wearing large, spiked dog collars with leather leashes, the ends of which were stuffed into Blaine’s leather pants. 

Blaine locked eyes with Kurt, a desperate plea in his expression.

“This” Kurt seethed, walking over to at Baird, “ends now.

“Thank god,” Blaine breathed out under his breath.

“What is zis? Who are you,” Baird sneered at Kurt, his heavy accent as pretentious as the Captain’s boating hat he was wearing. “I am verking. Do not disturb ze art.”

“ZIS,” Kurt shouted, “is Kurt Hummel, Vice President of Marketing at Vine Records, the company paying you for this shoot. And I did not authorize a photo shoot that’s degrading to both my artist and these women.” Kurt looked at one of the production assistants, “Could you please get some robes for these ladies?”

Baird moved closer to Kurt, narrowing his eyes. “You come into my studio, disturb my verk, disrupt my vision?”

“When your vision disgusts me in every possible way, yes, I do. You’re fired.”

Baird handed his camera to an assistant, a blonde woman in a neon pink tube top and cut-off jean shorts so short her ass cheeks were exposed. He put one finger on Kurt’s chest.

“You will regret zis, Mr. Vice Prezident. No one fires Baird LeConte.” He narrowed his eyes at Sugar, “No one.”

Kurt took a step back and glared at Baird, standing straight and towering over him. “We will no longer be requiring your services. Please gather your team and exit the building.”

“Kurt, don’t do this,” Sugar pleaded, her face red as a beet. “Baird is a genius. You need to let him-”

“You’re fired.” It was Blaine. His eyes were hard and he was shaking. 

“Blaine, Honey, you can’t fire Baird, he’s-”

“You,” Blaine shouted, moving closer to Sugar. “You are fired. I don’t want you to be my manager anymore.”

Sugar squeaked. An actual squeak. “You listen to me you little shit. I am Beverly Sugar, I run this town. I can make you and I can definitely break you. Before you met me you were nothing to no one. Think carefully about what you say next.”

Blaine took another step towards Sugar, right up in her face and smiled. “Go. Fuck. Yourself.”

It was all Kurt could do not to shout hallelujah.

 

———————

 

Everyone was gone. Baird had left in a huff, shouting in French about how no one in the entirety of Nashville would ever be able to hire him again. Sugar cried, begged Blaine to take her back, then spewed a string of curse words and slammed the door. Grant laughed and patted Kurt and Blaine both on the back, “Amazing set of balls, both of you.” Liam had missed the whole thing, probably down at a bar on Broadway nursing a beer and muttering about Baird LeConte.

“I’m so glad you showed up,” Blaine said. He and Kurt were sitting on the floor against the infinity wall, drinking the leftover champagne. “I know I should have shut it down but Baird can be pretty persuasive. I didn’t know which end was up. You saved me.”

Kurt preened. “I do what I can.”

Blaine leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. “I fired my manager. And I’ve pissed off two pretty powerful people.” He took a drink from the champagne bottle and passed it to Kurt. “Am I totally fucked?”

“No, you’re not,” Kurt said, taking a drink and letting his eyes wander over Blaine’s naked chest. “You’ve just proven that you can handle yourself. That you’re not just a pretty face with a sexy voice.”

Blaine cracked one eye open. “You think I’m pretty?”

Kurt laughed. “Come on, you know you’re gorgeous. It’s too bad we couldn’t finish the shoot because we really do need a photo and you look…wow.”

Blaine leaned over and grabbed Kurt’s chin, kissing him and grinning. “You think I’m preeeeeetty.”

“It’s the hair,” Kurt breathed, Blaine kissing down his neck, “it’s all messy sexy curly.” Blaine unbuttoned the top button on Kurt’s shirt and kissed his collarbone. “And it’s that damn eyeliner. It makes me want to do bad things to you. And why aren’t you wearing a shirt? I wanted to kill those poor girls for putting their hands all over you.”

Blaine looked up, catching Kurt’s eye. “You were jealous.”

“Crazy jealous,” Kurt said, pulling Blaine’s hair and biting his lips, “I’m the only one who gets to manhandle you.”

“Manhandle me. Please,” Blaine said, reaching around Kurt’s waist and grabbing his ass.

Kurt jumped up and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “First, I need a photo. Now, do your sexy pose, Monsieur Anderson. Zis is my process, ze art,” Kurt said, lips pouting, mimicking Baird’s thick accent.

Blaine stood up, laughing, the laces on the crotch of his leather pants pulled loose. “Get over here,” Blaine said, reaching for Kurt.

“No,” Kurt said, dodging him and laughing, snapping more photos. “I’ve been sent here to do a job and I am a man of my word.”

They danced around each other, laughing and grabbing each other. Blaine looked effortless and bright as Kurt snapped photo after photo, Blaine covering his face with his hands, his smile covering his entire face.

“Perfect,” Kurt said, putting his phone back into his pocket. “Who picked out these pants, anyway?” Kurt reached for the laces and pulled Blaine towards him, “I can totally see the outline of your dick.”

“I think maybe that was the point?”

“I see, Sugar’s doing I presume?” Kurt tugged down on the laces, running his fingers over the trail of dark hair leading down, down down… “Since you’ve fired her you should probably get rid of them.”

Blaine surged forward, licking into Kurt’s mouth, a moan on his lips, the sounds of their greedy kisses echoing off the walls. Blaine pulled away, suddenly. “Wait, wait. Isn’t the studio manager in the back office?”

“Hmmm, probably? I should go back and let her know we’re done with the space. But,” Kurt said, kissing Blaine’s neck and sliding his hands into the back of Blaine’s pants, “I have a car. A fast car. And fast car that can get us to my apartment very…fast.”

“You had me at fast…fuck, Kurt,” Blaine paused, pulling back to look into Kurt’s eyes, playfulness turning into raw need, “you had me the first moment I laid eyes on you.”


	8. Chapter Eight

Kurt didn’t think anyone else would be there, but the light was on in Grant’s office when he stepped off the elevator.

“What are you doing here on a Sunday night,” Kurt said. Grant was sitting turned towards the window, his feet up on the window sill.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Grant said, not turning around, “although I’m pretty sure I can guess. Sugar?”

“She’s doing her level best to ruin Blaine’s career before it even starts. CAA dropped him,” Kurt said, walking into Grant’s office and pacing the floor, “and Mercy Lounge canceled next week’s gig, something about being ‘double booked.’”

“Yeah, I heard about CAA. Sugar called me.”

“And?”

“You know Sugar, Kurt. She’s mad. She’s making threats. She wants us to drop Blaine.”

“She can’t do that. Turn around and talk to me and tell me she can’t do that.”

“Technically no, she can’t,” Grant said, spinning around and slouching down in his chair. “But she can definitely make it impossible for us to have a successful launch. Lightning 100 is already ‘rethinking’ their add. She’s got connections everywhere. And she is pissed.”

“Don’t you want to fight for him?”

“Yeah, I mean, sure. Yes. I think.”

“Grant.”

Grant reached under his desk and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of bourbon. “I’m not sure I want to deal with the shit storm that will definitely be coming my way if we challenge her,” he said, holding up a glass for Kurt.

“No, thank you.”

“Good. More for me.”

“Grant, focus. If you think Blaine is going to go crawling back to her it is not going to happen.”

Grant stood up, spinning the glass in his hand, and stared at Kurt, the crease between his eyes a deep cavern. “What’s in this for you? Why are you so involved, anyway?”

“I’m always invested in launching priority acts, you know that,” Kurt said, hands in his pockets, eyes on the floor.

“Yeah but, this one seems different. You’re…I don’t know, man.”

“What are you implying, Grant?”

“I’m implying that Beverly Sugar is not someone you want to tangle with, especially since Blaine was her little pet project. She paraded him around town, told everyone about him. This whole situation is a huge embarrassment for her. You don’t want to get caught in the crossfire.”

Kurt flopped down onto Grant’s leather couch and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“We can’t let her do this. He’s too…it’s…I can’t let her do this to him.”

Grant sat next to Kurt on the couch, holding his glass with the tips of his fingers.

“Kurt, I know we’ve never been close and it’s probably none of my business but, I’ve never seen you like this. Are you…,” he drained his glass, “is there something going on between you two?”

Kurt paused, breathing hard through his nose and waffling between denying his feelings and spilling it all, every last detail.

Grant pressed in further. “Fraternizing with an artist is definitely ill-advised, especially a straight, male artist. You could get fired.”

“I…,” Kurt looked at Grant with a fixed concentration, “I know.”

Grant sighed and lightly shoved Kurt’s shoulder. “You better be sure about this.”

A quiet laugh escaped Kurt’s lips. “He’s the only thing I’m sure of.”

———————-

 

Kurt was pacing his apartment in his underwear debating whether or not it was too late to call Blaine when his phone rang.

“Blaine, hi, I-”

“Kurt, I’m-”

Both men paused, a happy silence on the phone.

“Blaine, before you say anything, I have a plan.”

“A plan.”

“Yes. I booked The Tippler for Wednesday night. We’re going to have a showcase and I’m inviting absolutely everyone, managers and booking agents and radio and everyone. We’re going to show this town just what you can do, Sugar be damned.”

“Kurt…”

“Listen to me, Blaine. You are too talented to let one hiccup get you off track. I know we can-”

“Kurt.”

“-make this work. I believe in you. I believe-”

“Kurt!”

“What?”

“I’m standing outside your door.”

Kurt smiled and walked over to the door, looking through the peephole. Blaine waved, phone to his ear, mouth closed in a knowing smile. “Blaine, I’m going to have to let you go. There’s an incredibly sexy man here to see me.” He hung up the phone and opened the door. “Hi.”

“Cute,” Blaine said, motioning to Kurt’s revealing underwear.

“I didn’t expect to be receiving guests.”

“I like you like this,” Blaine said, touching Kurt’s chest with his index finger, “all rumpled and lanky. And glasses, too. I like it.”

“You think I’m lanky?” Kurt put his hands on his hips, head cocked to the side.

Blaine smiled and pulled Kurt to him. “I think you’re perfect. Now stop distracting me, I came here to say something.”

“Can you come inside and say it? My neighbors think I’m classy and put-together. I’d hate to spoil the illusion.”

Blaine followed Kurt into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. “I don’t know, I’d say the way you wiggle your ass in those boxer briefs is pretty fucking classy.”

“Perv,” Kurt said, shaking his ass as he walked into the living room. He sat down on the couch and motioned for Blaine to sit with him. 

Blaine sat down and leaned in for a kiss. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Kurt said, kissing Blaine back and smiling against his lips.

“I’ve been thinking,” Blaine said, backing away, but only far enough to look Kurt in the eye, “and I’ve come to a conclusion. I have royally fucked up my music career and-”

“You haven’t.”

“Let me get this out,” Blaine said, grabbing Kurt’s hands and kissing his knuckles.

“Okay,” Kurt said, pulling his legs onto the couch and facing Blaine.

“I’m going to call Grant in the morning. I’m going to give back my advance.”

“Blaine, no.”

“I’m going to give it all back and let Vine off the hook. I know Sugar’s been harassing Grant and that’s definitely not what I want.”

“Blaine-” 

Blaine put his hand over Kurt’s mouth. “I can just book my own shows and make my own music. I’ve been doing it for years and…I love it. Besides,” he took his hand away, “if I’m not signed to a major label I can live my life the way I want to without having to worry about my reputation or making the label look bad. And I can live it with the…the person I want.” 

Kurt’s heart was pounding, heat spreading through his chest. 

Blaine leaned closer and put his hand on Kurt’s neck. “And it’s you, Kurt. You’re my person.”

“Blaine,” Kurt breathed out as their mouths met in a desperate kiss. Kurt moaned, “wait,” as Blaine kissed down his neck. “Wait, wait, wait. You can’t quit.”

“I’ve decided what’s most important to me,” Blaine breathed into Kurt’s ear. “And it isn’t money.” A kiss behind his ear. “And it isn’t fame.” A kiss on his neck. “And it isn’t a fancy record contract.” A kiss under his chin. “And it isn’t a number one single.” A kiss to his mouth, open and wet.

“If you’re trying to seduce me with your romantic speech and your gorgeous lips, you should know,” Kurt said, nuzzling his nose into Blaine’s neck, “it’s working. But you can’t give up your career for me.”

Blaine framed Kurt’s face with his hands, pulling his eyes to his and gazing so deeply Kurt’s toes went numb. “I can. I will. I want to.” He kissed him, pulling Kurt’s lips into his mouth one by one.

“You can have both. I want you to have both.”

Blaine pushed Kurt back onto the couch and covered him, his hands strong on Kurt’s thighs and stomach and chest, his lips insistent. Intoxicating.

“Blaine,” Kurt said, his voice thin and breathy, “we need to talk about this.”

“We will,” Blaine said, sitting up and pulling off his shirt, “but right now,” he pulled on the waistband of Kurt’s boxer briefs and reached inside, “there’s something else I want to do with my mouth.”


	9. Chapter Nine

The Tippler was packed. The entirety of the Nashville music scene had shown up to see the guy who fired Beverly Sugar. And Kurt was pacing back and forth across the tiny dressing room behind the stage.

“Sit down, Kurt, you’re making me nervous,” Blaine said.

Kurt flopped down on the small coffee table made of reclaimed wood just as Blaine stood up and started pacing. There wasn’t enough room to pace. The room was more of a storage closet with a mirror than a dressing room.

“Are you ready for this? I’m afraid more of these people showed up hoping for some drama than to truly see your show,” Kurt said, crossing his arms only to uncross them.

“I don’t give a shit what these people think about me, Kurt, you know that.”

“Okay.” Kurt stood up and put his hands on Blaine’s neck, rubbing his thumbs along Blaine’s jawline. “You are…” Kurt smiled and leaned in, their foreheads touching.

“What? What am I?”

“You are an amazing talent. And stronger than you know. And sexy as hell. And the single greatest thing.”

Blaine sighed and leaned in to kiss Kurt, smiling into it. “Maybe you should be my manager.”

Kurt laughed and pulled away. “That’s insane.”

“Why? You know me, you believe in my music, you know everyone in the industry. Why not you?”

“Blaine, I have a job to do tonight, we need-”

“It should be you.”

Kurt opened his mouth to speak right as the club manager knocked on the door. “The natives are getting restless out here. You boys ready?”

Kurt leaned over and opened the door. “Yes, ready.” He turned back to Blaine, “Do you want me to introduce you?”

“No,” Blaine said, shaking his arms loose and rolling his head from side to side. “You go find a good spot, somewhere I can see you.”

“Okay,” He kissed Blaine and stepped out the door. “Break a leg.”

 

————————

 

Blaine hopped onto the stage amid catcalls and whistles.

“Hey, everybody, I’m Blaine,” he said, picking up his guitar and pulling the strap over his head. “Thanks for coming out tonight, even if it’s only because you were strong-armed by Kurt Hummel. Or because of the free booze.”

“Fuck yeah,” a tall guy yelled from the middle of the crowd, holding a mostly empty glass in the air.

“Booze hounds aside, I know these showcases normally come with some kind of agenda, and this is Nashville so I’m going to assume you’ve heard the news that I’ve parted ways with Vine Records.”

The room reacted exactly how Kurt suspected it would, with lots of head shaking and whispering. No one could believe someone would willingly give up a new artist launch at Vine.

“So you’re all here tonight for me to convince you that… you know what I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to convince you to do, so fuck that noise let’s play some music.”

Applause filled the room as Blaine strummed his guitar. Kurt was standing back by the bar next to Libby. Blaine found him and smiled. 

“I’d like to play you a new song I wrote a couple of days ago…for someone very special to me. Someone who taught me the importance of being true to myself, true to who I am. And he,” a low murmur spread throughout the room. Libby gasped and poked Kurt in the ribs. Kurt raised his glass to his lips to hide the gigantic grin on his face. “I feel like…well, I did… I came alive when I met him. This song is called ‘Words’ and,” Blaine looked directly at Kurt, “I hope you like it.”

http://youtu.be/NybhTS6jOZw (Press play)

“Is he professing love? To you?” Libby’s eyes were wide and she was whisper shouting into Kurt’s ear.

“Shhh,” Kurt said, putting his hand over her mouth.

The room went quiet as Blaine started singing. There was no whispering, no networking, no clinking of glasses. The room was transfixed by Blaine’s earnest delivery.

Just wanna tell you I love you  
But it’s the hardest thing to say  
I turned my head upside down  
Trying to find some kinda way

Kurt needed to be working the room, shaking hands and talking up Blaine. But he couldn’t move. Couldn’t blink. Couldn’t breathe as Blaine sang the words.

Just to tell you I need you  
In a way that will be heard  
I try to be a poet  
But since I met you   
I’ve never been good with words

Blaine was on stage singing his heart out.   
To Kurt.   
Saying that he loved him.

He loved him.

The next few songs were a blur for Kurt. Libby was talking his ear off and Deborah Overland from Billboard Magazine was giving him her best side-eye. Kurt kept drinking his drink and leaning against the bar trying to wrap his mind around it all. Around Blaine. Who loved him.

“You must have a magic fucking penis.” It was Sugar, breathing her hot, bourbon-laced breath into Kurt’s ear. Kurt didn’t bother looking at her, keeping his focus on Blaine. “All this time, I didn’t see it. Or maybe your gay powers are just that strong, huh Kurtsie? Or maybe you’re the one taking it up the ass. Is that it?”

“Fuck off, Sugar,” Kurt hissed, “and my name is Kurt.”

“I hope his sweet little ass was worth it, because you’ve ruined his career. You know that.”

“I said fuck off, Sugar. Why are you even here?”

“Oh, I’m leaving. I think I got what I came for.”

Kurt turned towards her, setting his glass down on the bar. “And what exactly did you come for?”

“You really think you can get away with this? Fucking the new guy? Blaine was Vine’s best chance at New Artist of the Year, which I know Trevor is gunning for this year. What do you think he’s going to do when he finds out what you’ve done?”

“I haven’t done anything. Besides, I seem to recall that none of this is any of your business anymore.”

“That was you first mistake. Everything in this town is my business, Kurtsie. You’ll see.”

Kurt turned back around to watch Blaine, doing his best to block out Sugar and her hissing.

 

———————

“Hey, Kurt,” Blaine said, his guitar case in one hand, the other hand running through his sweat-wet curls. Kurt was standing with Libby by the bar while Kurt waited to settle the bill.

“Blaine, hey, this is my very good friend, Libby.”

“Nice to meet you, Blaine,” Libby said, drawing out his name with a smirk on her face. “Look at you, you’re just as gorgeous as Kurt gushed you were.”

“Thanks?” Blaine said, looking at Kurt and blushing.

“I’m gonna go,” Libby said, pulling them both in close to whisper, “I want to know every single thing that happens do not leave anything out.” Then, as she walked out the door to the valet stand, she shouted, “Happy boning you two!”

“I apologize. She does that.”

Blaine reached out and took Kurt’s hand. “It’s actually not the strangest thing that was said to me tonight. I think I schmoozed and cheek-kissed everyone here including the waitstaff.”

“They all loved you, Blaine. Everyone loved you.”

“I saw Sugar.”

“I know. I talked to her, or rather, endured her.” Blaine’s thumb was rubbing the inside of Kurt’s palm. He loved that.

“I don’t want to know. There was one guy…I think his name was Eddy or Eric…he asked me how long I’ve known I’m a homo.”

“Eric Kane, he’s a writer for The Tennessean and a real asshole. Don’t worry about him. And, Blaine, I can’t…I can’t believe you did that. I…”

“Let’s talk about it at your place. Can I meet you there?” Blaine was crowding into him and put his hand on his waist.

Kurt blushed and looked around the room. “I just need to pay this obscene bar tab and I’ll be on my way. If you beat me just have the doorman let you in.”

“Jerry. He loves me.”

“Yes, I’m aware.”

“Kurt,” Blaine said, pulling Kurt to him and kissing him full on the lips, “don’t be long.”

 

————————

 

It took twenty minutes for the club manager to finally run Kurt’s card and another ten for his Uber driver to find him which made him incredibly late to meet Blaine. It had also given him a lot of time to think. About Blaine and Blaine’s song and Blaine’s public declaration and his own rapidly beating heart. 

And he knew they would talk about it, that they had to talk about it, but the very idea made his knees buckle.   
Because Blaine.   
And love.

And then Kurt was at his door, keys in hand, waiting to go in.   
To Blaine.   
And love.

He turned the key.

He found Blaine in his bathroom, stepping out of the shower all wet and steamy, running a towel through his hair. 

“Hey.”

Blaine looked out from under the towel, eyes wide. “I showered.”

“I see that,” Kurt said, walking over and running both of his index fingers down Blaine’s chest. “Blaine, that song…”

“Are you a top or a bottom?”

Kurt paused, his hands on Blaine’s hips, his naked, naked hips. “Hmm?”

“I mean, do you prefer being…do you like…when you’re…” Blaine wrapped the towel around his waist and walked into the bedroom with Kurt following him. Blaine wrapped his arms around himself and sat down on the bed. “I’m messing this up.”

Kurt sat down on the bed and crossed his legs, looking at Blaine. “I loved my mom.”

Blaine’s brow furrowed. “Okay?”

“She died when I was young and then it was just me and my dad. And we loved each other well. We do, we love each other well.”

Blaine’s expression softened. He reached out and put his hand on Kurt’s thigh, rubbing his thumb back and forth. “That’s not hard to believe.”

“And that’s important to me, the love that we share.”

“It should be.”

“And it’s not something I’ve ever shared with anyone else. Love.”

Blaine’s hand stilled. “Oh.”

Kurt took a moment to breathe. To be present. To look Blaine in the eye and say it with his whole heart. “Until now.”

“Now?”

“Blaine, I am in love with you.”

“Kurt.”

“And I’m not saying it because you said it. And, wow, now that I’m saying it out loud I’m realizing that maybe you didn’t mean to say it to me and maybe it was just a song and not a declaration and this might all blow up in my face but it’s too late now so I’m saying it. I’m saying it because I’m wildly, insanely, irresponsibly in love with you. And I’m going to stop talking now so that you can say something or not say something or do whatever it is you need to-”

Blaine cut him off with a searing kiss, licking into Kurt’s mouth and pushing him down onto the bed.

“Kurt,” he said, nuzzling his nose and running his fingers into Kurt’s hair, “I wrote that song about you, for you. I wrote that song and sang it tonight because I wanted to tell you…that I love you. I’m in love with you.”

“You are?”

“So, so much.”

“Blaine,” Kurt said, putting his hands on Blaine’s face, “kiss me.”

Blaine paused, gazing at Kurt, his eyes wide and happy. “I want to be with you.”

“I think we’ve established that.”

“No, I mean…I want…” Blaine burrowed his face into Kurt’s neck. “I don’t know why this is hard for me to say.”

“You can have anything you want. You can have all of me.”

Blaine looked up and looked Kurt in the eye. “I want you to fuck me.”


	10. Chapter Ten

Blaine was hovering over Kurt, watching his eyes go wide and his mouth open and close. Blaine was still wet from the shower and Kurt’s eyes followed the water drops as they snaked down and down and down. 

Blaine’s arms were starting to tremble and he was waiting. Waiting for Kurt to respond. Waiting to breathe. Waiting to blink.

After several long minutes Blaine slid off of Kurt and sat up on his knees. “You don’t….” He couldn’t get the words out.

Kurt looked at Blaine, a weak smile on his face, and sat up next to him on the bed. “I don’t want you to think you have to prove something to me.”

Blaine’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Prove what?”

“It’s just that…I know I’m the first man you’ve been with, that all of this is new to you. But we don’t have to…a lot of gay men never…it’s not a requirement.”

A shy laugh escaped Blaine’s lips as he reached for Kurt’s hands. “Kurt.”

“And it’s…it can be…it will hurt.”

Blaine placed soft fingertips to Kurt’s lips. “I know. I know I don’t have to prove anything and I know it might be uncomfortable-”

“Hurt,” Kurt exclaimed, his voice muffled by Blaine’s hand.

“-but this is what I want. If it’s what you want, of course, but it’s definitely what I want.” Blaine moved his hand from Kurt’s lips and cupped his cheek. “I love you. I love your determined spirit and your sharp wit and, fuck, Kurt, you’re so achingly beautiful. Do you know that? Do you know what it’s like for me to look at you? And touch you?” Blaine sighed, eyes wet, worrying his lower lip into his mouth. “I want to be with you in every way possible. I want to be as close to you as I can be. I want to feel you…inside of me.”

“Oh.” Kurt could feel his face heating up, his heart hammering in his chest. “Oh.”

“Do you…is that something you do? Or would want to do? With me?” Blaine’s voice was quiet and a bit panicked. He clearly didn’t think there would be a lengthy conversation once he’d made his intentions known.

Kurt cleared his throat and scooted closer to Blaine. “I wouldn’t say it’s something I do, per se, but I have, yes.” Kurt rubbed his hands over Blaine’s forearms, could feel Blaine’s hair standing on end. “And I’ve thought about it, with you.”

Blaine’s eyes flashed, begging the question his voice couldn’t speak.

“I didn’t expect it to ever happen, or at least not for a long time, but I did think about it.” The memory crawled up Kurt’s spine, making him shiver. “I don’t know. I didn’t have some wicked plan to seduce you, but I did think about it. And I would. Want to. I mean I do. Want to.”

Blaine’s worried expression softened into what would have been a smirk if the moment weren’t so intense. “I do, too. Want to.”

“Come here,” Kurt murmured as they both reached for each other, their lips meeting in kiss after kiss. Kissing Blaine was unlike anything Kurt had ever experienced, an instant calming effect while simultaneously setting him ablaze.

Kurt nudged Blaine’s shoulder, kissing down his neck and rolling him down on to the bed.

“Kurt.”

“Mmmm.”  
“I’m naked,” Blaine teased, as Kurt placed tender kisses below Blaine’s ear.

Kurt smiled. “Yes, very helpful,” he said, licking under Blaine’s jaw and moving to his other ear.

“Might be even more helpful…uhhnnnnn…” Blaine moaned, Kurt finding a sensitive spot on his neck, “if you were, too.”

Kurt stopped kissing him and sat up, his legs straddling Blaine’s thighs. “Why, Mr. Anderson, you dirty boy. Are you asking for a show?”

Blaine smiled, a brilliant, wide smile and gripped Kurt’s denim-clad thighs. “As a matter of fact, I wasn’t. But since you offered.”

Kurt slowly began pulling his perfectly tailored shirt out of his pants. “I don’t believe I offered. You’re going to have to ask nicely.”

“Kurt Hummel, would you do me the honor of showing me your fucking fantastic naked body as quickly as possible and then lay me out and fuck me like I asked you to,” Blaine said, going for playful but his voice catching on the last word. Kurt’s breathing sped up. Blaine rubbed his hands slowly up Kurt’s thighs and gripped his hips, his thumbs slowly pressing in. “Please. Please show me.”

Kurt slowly lifted his hands to his shirt collar, taking his time unbuttoning one button, his long fingers lingering. “What is it you want to see?”

Blaine’s eyes darkened as he raked them over Kurt’s body. “I want,” he swallowed thickly, “I want to see your chiseled collar bone and your exquisite shoulders.” Kurt unbuttoned two more buttons, pulling his shirt collar wide and over one shoulder. Blaine leaned up, putting one hand on the bed to support his weight, keeping the other firmly gripping Kurt’s hip, and kissed Kurt’s shoulder, nosed across his collarbone and sucked a kiss into his throat.

“I want to see your chest, your perfect creamy skin and your nipples that,” Blaine licked his lips, “that make my mouth water.” Kurt could feel Blaine growing hard beneath him as be unbuttoned three more buttons and pulled his shirt open wide. Blaine leaned in again, sucking one nipple into his mouth right away and causing Kurt to cry out. They were both wound so tight; every touch, every kiss burning hotter and hotter. Blaine kissed and licked every inch of Kurt’s skin he could reach. His lips were still on him when he made his next request. 

“I want to see your arms, fuck, your arms make me crazy.” Kurt shrugged out of his shirt and made a show of raising his long, toned arms out wide and then up over his head, stretching them tall, Blaine’s eyes following every movement. He wiggled his hips down onto Blaine’s cock as he did so, making Blaine whimper and tremble.

Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hip. “I want to see these hips,” Kurt pulled his leather belt through the brass clasp, “these hips that mesmerized me that first night at the karaoke bar,” Kurt pulled his belt slowly through the loops, “and I had to have you, right then and there fuck, Kurt…” Blaine surged forward, licking into Kurt’s mouth and grabbing him by the neck. It felt like that night in the alley, Blaine wild and desperate. Kurt moaned into it, grinding his hips down into Blaine’s lap.

“Let me see you,” Blaine growled into Kurt’s skin, “let me feel you.” Blaine tugged at Kurt’s pants, unfastening them and inching down the zipper with one hand.

Kurt pushed him away, making quick work of taking off his pants and pulling the towel from Blaine’s lap. They both paused, breath heavy and eyes roaming, the weight of the moment coursing through their veins.

“I don’t want to ruin the moment,” Kurt said, swinging his leg over Blaine’s and leaning in close, “but there’s a process to this. I need to prepare you before we…” he motioned towards his cock, hard and pressing insistently into Blaine’s thigh.  
“I know, I…” Blaine smiled, “I sort of did that already…in the shower. I’m ready for you.”

Kurt closed his eyes and moaned. “That is so fucking hot.”

“And I brought condoms and lube,” Blaine said, nodding his head towards the bedside table.

Kurt looked at Blaine, his hard, naked body spread out beneath him. He looked so vulnerable and so sexy and Kurt thought he might die on the spot. “You thought I wouldn’t have the neccessaries?”

“Just wanted to be prepared,” Blaine said, looking up at Kurt through his eyelashes. Blaine wrapped his hand around Kurt’s wrist and pulled Kurt’s hand over his heart. “I want this. I want you. I love you, Kurt.”

Kurt loved the way Blaine pronounced his name, emphasizing the t at the end. “I love you,” he said, reaching over to position his body on top of Blaine’s, their cocks brushing against each other. Kurt kissed Blaine then, slow and sweet. He let his hand wander down Blaine’s side, down his hip, down his thigh. 

“Should I,” Blaine gasped, already so gone and they were just getting started, “should I turn over?”

“No,” Kurt said, wrapping his hand around Blaine’s cock and gently stroking, “stay just like this. I want to see you.” Kurt took his hand off of Blaine long enough to grab the small bottle of lube and smear a generous amount on his fingers. “Can I touch you?”

“Yes. Yes, fuck, anything. Do anything you want.” Blaine’s eyes were closed and his dark curls were still damp from the shower.

Kurt stroked Blaine’s cock a few more times, waiting for Blaine to relax before moving down to cup his balls and tease his fingers lower. Blaine was cursing and moaning and gripping Kurt’s shoulder.

“Spread your legs out for me,” Kurt asked. Blaine complied immediately, splaying his knees apart and giving Kurt access. Kurt stretched his index finger down to Blaine’s hole and circled it a few times, feeling where Blaine had already stretched himself. He wanted to take his time. He wanted to be sure Blaine was ready. He pushed the tip of his finger inside and felt Blaine tense. He pulled it back out and continued to circle it around the rim. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, it’s good. It’s….good.” Blaine pulled Kurt up to kiss his mouth. “Can you stay up here with me? Everything’s fine I’m just…nervous.”

Kurt kissed him, sucking on Blaine’s tongue as he pushed one finger inside. Blaine wailed into Kurt’s mouth.

“Blaine,” Kurt said, concern on his face.

“I’m fine, seriously, it’s just new. And exciting. And good, so so good. I promise if it’s not good I will speak up immediately. Please,” Blaine said, his hazel eyes wide, “please keep going.”

Kurt kissed Blaine’s nose, his cheeks, his forehead, his eyelids. He also inserted another finger. “You’re so beautiful, Blaine, my god, look at you. I’m going to stretch you a bit more, okay?”

Blaine nodded. They kept their eyes locked on each other as Kurt slowly inserted a third finger. He was pumping them in and out now, stretching and spreading Blaine’s hole.

“Kurt,” Blaine said, sweat breaking out at his temples, a tremor in his bottom lip, “fuck….that’s…” His voice dropped out as his head tilted back. He was fucking himself onto Kurt’s fingers, pushing his hips down to keep up with Kurt’s movements. Kurt knew he was ready.

He drew his fingers out and Blaine whined. Kurt made quick work of putting on a condom and applying more lube. He pushed a pillow up under Blaine’s hips. “Pull your knees back for me,” he said, pushing Blaine’s calves up. Blaine grabbed both of his legs behind the knees and spread himself wide. Kurt’s heart caught in his throat, the site of Blaine offering himself almost too much to bear. 

Kurt leaned over Blaine and positioned his cock at Blaine’s entrance. He’d only ever done this once, and it was a memory he didn’t enjoy revisiting. He was nervous. He wanted this to be good for Blaine, wanted it to mean something. 

“Kurt, please…” Blaine begged, “I need you.”

Kurt took a breath and pushed in, slowly, feeling Blaine’s entire body tense up.

“Fuck, Kurt! So big!” he said, through clenched teeth, making Kurt pause. “No, keep going, keep going, just….FUCK!”

“That’s the idea,” Kurt joked, making Blaine huff out a laugh and easing the tension. He pushed in further, moving his hand from his own cock to Blaine’s. “Relax, it’s easier if you’re not tense. Look at me,” he said, Blaine’s eyes flying open and finding Kurt’s, “focus on me.”

Blaine let go of his knees and wrapped his arms around Kurt. They held each other’s gaze as Kurt pushed all the way in. “Your cock,” Blaine said, through short staccatos of breath, “is massive.”

Kurt smiled and stroked Blaine’s already leaking cock, hard as a rock in his hand. “I’m going to move now, okay?”

“Yes, fuck yes. Fuck me,” Blaine said, wrapping his legs around Kurt’s waist, their bodies pressed together at every point. Kurt kissed him and began to fuck into him slowly, watching Blaine’s face and feeling his body around him.

“It’s…I’m…you…” Blaine babbled.

“You feel so good, Blaine, holy fucking hell. I don’t to hurt you but…oh my god,” Kurt said, doing his best to hold back, to follow Blaine’s cues.

Blaine raised his arms to Kurt’s neck and squeezed his legs tighter around Kurt’s waist. “Kurt, fuck me. FUCK me!”

Something in Blaine’s eyes, the desperation in his voice, flipped a switch inside of Kurt and he let go. He let go of his worry. He let go of being careful. He let go of his insecurity, snapped his hips back and he fucked Blaine. He fucked him fast and fucked him hard. He poured out his need and want and desire and he fucked Blaine. He fucked Blaine with everything he had.

And Blaine held on. “Yes….YES….FUCK….Kurt, god, oh my god, fucking fuck nnnggghhhhhhh……”

Kurt sat up and pulled Blaine’s legs over his shoulders. He used the leverage to fuck into Blaine even harder, sending Blaine into a cursing wail. Blaine’s hands were twisting in the sheets and his head was thrown back, his back arching off the bed. He looked incredible.

Kurt wrapped a fist around Blaine’s cock and stroked him fast, his hand a blur as he pushed them both to their breaking point.

“I’m gonna come,” Blaine shouted, “oh, oh, oh, OH, SHIT!” Blaine’s orgasm hit him hard and his entire body seized up with it, his eyes squeezing shut and his mouth moving but no sounds coming out.

“So amazing, you are so amazing, so beautiful,” Kurt murmured, still buried deep inside of Blaine. He continued to thrust into him a handful of times before his own orgasm ripped through him. He slumped over, landing on Blaine’s chest.

“Holy shit SHIT. Holy fucking shit.” Blaine was gasping and panting, his legs still wrapped around Kurt.

Kurt kissed Blaine’s chest, his body a boneless heap. “That’s good right? I never can tell with you, you have such a filthy mouth.”

“You…you and your…Kurt, I’m…wow. That was wow. You are a fucking sex god.”

Kurt laughed out loud at that, his softening cock slipping out of Blaine and raised his head up to look at him. “Thank you.”

“Thank me? For what? You’re the one who just gave me what might be the most intense orgasm of my entire fucking life.”

Kurt smiled and ran his hand through Blaine’s sweaty curls. “For trusting me with this. With you. For loving me and making me feel loved and, well I’ll be honest, for having the hottest fucking ass I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh fuck, my ass. I’m not going to be able to walk straight tomorrow.”

“If I did my job right, no, you won’t.”

Blaine laughed and pulled Kurt close, closer, his lips in Kurt’s hair. “Are you saying you’re not up for round two?”

“Oh my god.”


	11. Chapter Eleven

Kurt woke up to the sound of his phone buzzing so rapidly it fell off the nightstand. He groaned and rolled onto his back, unwilling to face whatever urgent messages needed his attention. He stretched his long legs, smiling at the memory of the night before. Of Blaine, hot and naked and open and oh god, Blaine. Gorgeous Blaine. Who was next to him. In his bed.

“Hey, you,” Blaine said, peeking out from under a wild riot of curls, his voice muffled by the pillow.

Kurt curled his body toward Blaine and stared, taking in the wide planes of Blaine’s back that dipped down to his narrow waist and curved back up to his plump, glorious ass. That he wanted to bite. “Hey,” he said, reaching out and running his fingers through Blaine’s hair.

“Your phone’s buzzing,” Blaine said, reaching over to kiss Kurt’s mouth. Kurt grabbed Blaine’s ass and pulled them closer, their kiss turning dirty.

Kurt’s phone buzzed again.

“Shouldn’t you check that? It’s non-stop,” Blaine said, kissing down Kurt’s chest.

“I’m sure it can wait. And it seems like you’re headed somewhere interesting.”

Blaine pounced, jumping on top of Kurt and pinning his arms above his head, a smirk on his lips. “I’ve got you now, Kurt Hummel.”

“Uh-oh,” Kurt smiled, breathless. “What are you going to do with me?”

Kurt’s phone buzzed again.

“I,” Blaine said, kissing down Kurt’s neck, “am going,” he kissed down his chest, “to totally,” he kissed his hipbone “see what could possibly be so urgent.”

“NO,” Kurt shouted, laughing as Blaine held him down with one arm while reaching down to the floor to pick up Kurt’s phone.

“Now, “Blaine said, sitting on Kurt’s thighs, his body gloriously on display, “let’s see what…oh, what’s your passcode?”

“Are you serious? We declare our love to each other, you let me fuck you, and suddenly I’m supposed to divulge my most precious secret?” Kurt’s eyebrow was quirked, a smile in his eyes.

Blaine laughed. “Your most precious secret is the passcode to your phone?”

“Everything is in that phone,” Kurt said, reaching for it. Blaine held it farther away, the phone buzzing in his hand.

Blaine leaned down and kissed him. “Tell me.”

“No.”

Blaine moved off of Kurt and settled back against the pillows, pulling Kurt to his chest, “What’s the passcode?”

“No.”

“Tell me.”

“NEVER.”

“Tell me and I’ll suck your dick.”

Kurt growled and buried his head in Blaine’s shoulder. “I was hoping you would anyway.”

“Give me the passcode, Hummel.”

Kurt sighed, “It’s 2289, you ass.”

Blaine’s eyebrows shot up. “Wow, that was easy. I was sure you would make me suck your dick before you gave it to me.”

“Dammit!” Kurt yelled, lightly pounding his fist onto Blaine’s chest.

They both fell into fits of laughter as Blaine unlocked the phone and opened Kurt’s text messages. “Shit, Kurt, look at all these texts.”

Kurt grabbed the phone and scrolled through the names. Liam, Grant, Libby, Trevor…and Sugar. He read Sugar’s first.

I warned you about crossing me, Kurtsie.

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Blaine asked.

“I don’t know,” Kurt said, sitting up and opening the texts from Liam, “she made some threats at the show last night but nothing that worried me.”

Kurt read Liam’s texts out loud, his voice growing more and more worried with each message.

Kurt, tell me it’s not true.  
Sugar texted me. Are you up? I need to hear it from you.  
Are you coming in today?  
This is crazy.  
I don’t believe it.  
Come find me when you get in.

Kurt’s pulse sped up as he opened the texts from Grant and read aloud.

I guess the jig’s up? It’s too bad really. I was just starting to like you.

And then from Trevor.

Please call me as soon as you can.

“Kurt, what the fuck is going on.”

“He knows about us. Sugar told him, that has to be it. She warned me that she was going to tell him but I honestly didn’t think she’d do it. Or maybe…maybe I just didn’t care.”

“Shit, Kurt, what…what are you going to do? What does this mean?”

Kurt wrapped his arms around Blaine’s neck. “It means I love you. And whatever Trevor says, whatever happens, nothing’s going to change that.”

Blaine’s expression remained worried while Kurt looked up Trevor’s phone number.

Trevor Humphries, Vine’s CEO, was a no-nonsense kind of guy. He was soft-spoken and unassuming in person, but ruthless when it mattered. And he wasn’t someone that liked to be kept waiting.

He picked up after the first ring. “Hello, Kurt.”

“Hey, Trevor, I just got your text.”

“Yes, I’d prefer to speak to you about this in person but I’m in New York today and I’m afraid it can’t wait.”

Kurt gulped. “Okay.”

“I received a rather distressing phone call from Beverly Sugar this morning. She seems to believe that you are currently in some sort of relationship with Blaine Anderson. She was very clear that it was sexual in nature and that in fact, he left Vine because of you.”

Kurt stayed silent, not knowing if he should answer or deny or just die on the spot. Blaine was looking at him with wide eyes and running his hands through his hair.

Trevor continued, his short, clipped tones sending a cold chill down Kurt’s spine. “I’ll admit that I was rather shocked by this information. Both in hearing it and it being delivered by Sugar. I can’t stand that woman. And Kurt, I don’t have to tell you that fraternizing with an artist is not only unseemly but downright forbidden. You know that.”

Kurt stayed silent, his lack of argument saying more than his words ever could.

“Furthermore, you know Blaine was our one shot at New Artist. You know how important that was to me. You KNOW that.” Trevor took several deep breaths that Kurt could nearly feel through the phone, like hot stripes across his face. “Kurt, you’ve been a trusted and valued employee for many years so I’m only going to ask you this once. Are you fucking Blaine Anderson?”

Kurt’s throat closed, his head throbbing. He knew what would happen if he answered the question. “Yes.”

A long pause. A million thoughts racing through Kurt’s mind. He could try to explain, try to make Trevor understand that they weren’t just fucking, that he and Blaine were…it didn’t matter. Even as he opened his mouth to explain, he knew it didn’t matter.

“You can’t imagine how sorry I am to hear that,” Trevor spit out. “I will expect your letter of resignation on my desk by tomorrow.”

Kurt closed his eyes and took a deep breath, forcing himself to remain calm. “I understand.”

“And, Kurt?”

“Yes?”

“I hope you’re happy with the mess you’ve made.” And with that, Trevor was gone.

Kurt tossed his phone down on the bed and sighed.

“What happened?” Blaine’s voice was soft as he wrapped his arms around Kurt.

“Trevor fired me,” Kurt said, the words acid on his tongue. “Sugar told him about us and he fired me.”

“I’ll call him. I’ll fucking explain that it was all me, that I pursued you. This is total bullshit! He can’t just fire you!”

“He can and he did.”

“No, I won’t let this happen, he-”

“It’s okay, Blaine, I knew this was an inevitability. That first night you came to my apartment and you kissed me, I knew. I knew I had to make a choice,” Kurt said, their faces breaths apart, “I picked you.”

They kissed, warm lips and soft tongues, both trying to communicate their love for the other in touches and moans. Blaine broke the kiss and pulled Kurt into a tight hug. “But this is your career, Kurt. You can’t just throw it away for me.”

Kurt took a deep breath and smiled. “Maybe it’s time for me to move on to something new.”

 

———————-

 

It was 6:20 when Kurt arrived at the Ryman. He’d gone home first and changed his clothes, taking care not to look like he had done so. But he knew his fitted dark wash jeans and black on black paisley button down looked good. His hair was swept up in practiced perfection as he walked down 5th Avenue and up the short staircase to the will call entrance.  
He flashed his All Access laminate and made his way backstage, climbing the narrow staircase that wound up just off the lobby. The dressing room door was open and Kurt knocked as he went in. “Hello? Blaine?”

Blaine stood up from the worn leather couch, his eyes rimmed in black eyeliner, his dark curls just the right amount of sexy messy. He looked incredible. “You made it,” he said, his hands settling on Kurt’s waist. “You look amazing.”

“I’m sorry I’m so late, I had a meeting that went long.” Kurt placed a kiss to Blaine’s cheek and pulled him to sit down next to him on the couch. 

“What is it? You seem fidgety.”

“I was over at the NARAS office. Gary, you remember meeting him at the GRAMMY Block Party? We were talking about how much the industry has changed over the last few years, how record labels have really lost their foothold in the music community. Everyone was,” Kurt licked his lips, dragging it out, “they were especially interested in hearing the first hand account of how you left Vine and everything that happened.”

“They didn’t know?”

“No, they knew. Everyone did. I think they just wanted to see if I would offer up some new piece of gossip. They were more than complimentary about my leaving Vine and going into management. I guess Gary and Trevor had a falling out a few years ago and Gary hasn’t let it go.”

Blaine laughed, “But you haven’t really gone into management, you only manage me.” Kurt smacked him on the arm in feigned disgust.  
“Oh, don’t worry,” Blaine cooed, his eyes on Kurt’s lips. “I like the way you manage me.” 

“Anyway,” Kurt said, rolling his eyes and smiling, “Gary had some big news to share with me. About you.” 

“About me?”

“Blaine, they’ve noticed. They’ve noticed you have three sold out shows this weekend. At the Ryman. They’ve noticed that every A-level artist who matters wants you on their tour. They’ve noticed your unstoppable radio single and your Top 5 position on iTunes. Blaine, they’ve seen the Twitter comments.”

“I don’t get it.”

“NARAS, the fucking GRAMMYs, has decided to include indie artists in their New Artist of the Year category.”

Blaine’s eyes went wide, his mouth hanging open. “But…they don’t…why?”

“Because they’ve noticed. You.”

Blaine shook his head back and forth, a wide grin on his face.

“And of course, Gary couldn’t say you’d be getting a nomination but….he asked me over to their offices. To specifically tell me about this. About you.”

Blaine lunged at him, wrapping him up and peppering his face with kisses. “You are the best, Kurt, the fucking BEST!”

“It wasn’t me,” Kurt said, his eyes filling with tears, “it was you. It was your bravery, your determination to be true to yourself. To say, to hell with what anyone thinks. It was you, Blaine.”

Blaine smiled, his hands on Kurt’s face. “I love you. None of the rest of it matters, you know. Not this show tonight, not a GRAMMY, not some world tour….just you. I wouldn’t be anywhere, wouldn’t be anyone, without you.”

A knock at the door interrupted the moment. “Five minutes, Blaine.”

“Thanks,” Blaine answered, turning back to Kurt and kissing his cheek. “Will you stay for the show?”

“Always. I always stay.”

 

———————-

 

The energy of the crowd swirled around the historic room like an electric current. Kurt was standing in the balcony sound booth as the lights went down and loud chatter erupted into screaming applause. Blaine walked on stage carrying his own guitar. Kurt put a hand to his lips and laughed. No matter the show, no matter the venue, Blaine insisted on coming out without introduction, without fanfare. Before the light show, before his band joined him on stage, Blaine sang the same song every night, said the same thing. Kurt had even seen GIFs of the speech on Tumblr.

“Hey, everybody, I’m Blaine.” He tuned his guitar, waiting for the shouts and catcalls to subside. “I’d like to play you a song I wrote for someone very special to me. Someone who taught me the importance of being true to myself, true to who I am. I came alive when I met him.” The crowd roared and Kurt grinned. Event though he’d heard it dozens and dozens of times, Blaine’s speech still made his knees tremble and his cheeks ache. “This song is called ‘Words.’ I hope you like it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had so much fun writing this story. Thank you for all of the comments and encouragement along the way!


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